Once a Thief
by E. Griffin
Summary: Hood has always had loyal servants to aid him in his conquests, until Rictus encounters a situation that may turn him from his master forever. Thief of Always, Clive Barker
1. Chapter 1

**Once a Thief**

**By**: E.R.M. Griffin

**Summary:** Starting before the events of _The Thief of Always_, Hood has always had loyal servants to aid him in his conquests, until Rictus encounters a situation that may turn him from his master forever.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

The day was a short one, as was the case more and more with summer over and fall quickly approaching. September was upon the world, and the first hints of a cooling breeze had begun to creep into the sweltering air. Soon the warmth would vanish completely. Not to mention it meant school would be beginning.

On such a short day, when the night had come far quicker then it should have, and only mere days remained before she had to return to High School, Rachel Rivers tried to make the night last as long as possible. But the book in her hands offered little distraction from the temptation of sleep. But she knew the moment she submitted, the night would fly by and she would be one day closer to another school year. To the monotony of a schedule and the almost constant feeling of being _insubstantial._

"I'm going for a walk!" She announced suddenly, her eyes shining with intent. There was nobody in particular that she meant to say it to, as there was nobody else in her room. But it meant doing something, which was far more important then simply lying down and going to sleep.

She reached out to grab a ribbon with which to tie her plain brown hair, suddenly wishing that just for once she could look as pretty as some of the other girls in her school. Glancing into a nearby mirror, she was astounded at how ordinary she looked. Her hair was long and earth-colored, her eyes brown. Her face was a bit full, and she possessed no particularly outstanding features. She was simply _ordinary_.

When her hand closed around a hard object, Rachel turned and saw she had brought her razor out of her drawer. She kept it hidden out of sight specifically for night such as that one.

"Right..." she murmured, slumping slightly on her bed. Pulling up the sleeves revealed dozens of thin, even lines. Cuts she had inflicted herself, over the course of many years. The same of which covered parts of her legs as well.

She was in no way suicidal, and yet she continued to do it, even when swearing to herself that each cut would be the last. She couldn't explain her fascination in the act, her _need_ for it. Even now she brought the razor to her hand, a few centimeters under her left thumb, to the left and clear of any major veins. It was raining outside now, a gentle pattering on her windowsill that calmed her as she almost expertly brought the blade across her skin.

There was a sudden rush of adrenaline and pain which abated a second later, replaced by a sweeter relied. Almost instantly, a redness seeped out through the wound and created a thin trail over her skin, no larger than a paper cut. A tiny drop managed to come to the surface, dropping to the ground as Rachel turned her hand upside down. She was glad she had no carpet in her room. Wiping specks of blood from a shiny wooden floor was far easier then dried wet streaks on a carpet. All the less necessary to explain as well. Her parents had no idea of her rather unnaturally hobby, and she was in no way intent on telling them. It would be too difficult to explain. She already felt stupid enough.

She felt so calm, that she brought the blade against her skin yet again, preparing to make another cut right under the first. She brought the razor down, cutting into the skin once more, intensely intent on her task. Yet when the sudden crash of her window panes coming in contact with the walls startled her, Rachel found the blade cutting too deep. She cried out in pain, biting down on her lip. The cut was deep indeed, running the length of the area between her thumb and finger. _That_ hurt. It also bled. A lot.

"Oh no..." she stared at it, her eyes opened in horror. More blood, though this time far less controllable. "No no no..." Rachel shook her head, coming to rest on the floor against her bed. She stared down as the blood collected into a tiny pool and started to move slowly across the floor, eased on by the sudden breeze in her room. The pain was intense, white hot in her hand. She was panicking now, adrenaline rushing through her. She couldn't call her parents. What would they think if they saw her in such a state? Then they would see the other cuts, and would send her to a hospital and have her locked up, she was sure of it. But she didn't know what to do about this. Had she nicked an artery or something? The way the wound bled she might have just believed it.

"Honestly now, does it rain every single night here or simply when I choose to come about?" A voice demanded, edged with sarcasm and a slight bit of disdain.

Rachel gasped, her eyes flying up towards the window. It was still open, and rain flew in to mix with the blood, thickening the pool. At the head of it all, standing only slightly taller then Rachel's own rather scrawny frame, was a strange looking man.

Her first instinct told her to scream for her parents, but was quickly extinguished by her impending bloody problem. But as she studied the man, he seemed rather unimposing. In fact, he didn't look the least bit threatening. His build was, as her second good look confirmed, no more imposing then her own. On his slightly pointed nose rested a pair of thin spectacles. He was dressed in an immaculate fancy white suit, down to a pair of black shiny shoes. His skin was pale, and almost a strange yellow sheen, as though he had recently been ill. His ears were strange, almost violently pointed, as though he were an elf from a storybook.

But perhaps his most striking feature was his smile, a wide grin with two rows of perfect gleaming teeth, so wide-spread that they resembled a shark's smile.

"Um...hi..." Rachel managed to utter, one hand holding on to her bleeding wrist. Still, the flow continued un abstracted.

The man at the window grinned at her, then did a quick double-take as he noticed the scene.

"...did I come at a bad time then?" He finally inquired, his grin only slightly faltering.

_Is he for real?_ Rachel blinked, a bit taken aback by his lack of suitable reaction. Most normal people would be calling for help or trying to aid her in some way.

"No...I...cut myself," she replied dumbly.

"So I see."

Rachel felt her defenses suddenly flare. "Look, did you want something...cause if not I'll just sit here and bleed to death then..."

"-Oh you won't bleed to death!"

"Excuse me?"

"That cut is all wrong. I mean, you just need a hand with that. You _were_ going to call for help, weren't you?"

"Uh..."

"Well?"

"Hey, I don't have to tell you anything!" She huffed, a bit angry at the man's indifference. "I didn't invite you to come...climb up through my window. Who are you anyway, some kind of pervert?" She demanded.

"What? No!" He laughed, though his tone was less sugary then it had been moments ago. He seemed rather agitated. "I was merely coming to inquire if you were up for a little trip, so I flew on up to..."

"-You flew?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Right, so first you climb a tree to peak in on me, then you talk about flying. So you're a pervert, _and_ your crazy!" She scoffed.

"Are you always this rude when someone interrupts you while your killing yourself?" He demanded, now a bit angry.

"Do you always stand around doing nothing when you see someone bleeding all over the place?" She countered. "Besides, I didn't invite you up here, and I wasn't trying to kill myself!"

"Right," he scoffed, and was kneeling next to her in three quick strides. Rachel shrank against the bed behind her, suddenly a bit afraid. "Relax, will you woman. If I wanted to hurt you I would leave you here and let you do it for me." He muttered, pulling a handkerchief out of his suit pocket. He wrapped it around the wound, his thin fingers holding it in place tightly. A rather flatulent smell rose from the handkerchief, stunning Rachel slightly. "Honestly, teenagers and their fascination with suicide..." he muttered under his breath as he tended to the cut.

"I _wasn't_ trying to kill myself," Rachel insisted again, scowling at him as he worked at tending the wound. "I just...slipped."

"Right, so you just upped and decided to slit your wrists..."

"-That's not even my wrist, you-"

"Oh for the love of..."

They continued bickering as he held the handkerchief tightly, loosening his hold a bit only when he noticed a brief flicker of pain cross her face.

"So why did you say you came here for?" She asked after a moment of silence. She felt a bit calmer, wether it was from growing used to the stranger's presence, or simply from loss of blood, she wasn't sure.

"Well peeking in on you of course, I tend to do that to most attractive young ladies when its raining out. I like to leave a lasting impression you know!"

Despite everything, Rachel couldn't help but let out a laugh. This seemed to please the man, who's already large grin widened to almost caricature proportion.

"My name is Rictus!"

"Rachel."

"I know."

"Right, I forgot. You flew on up here to take me on a trip, of course you know my name." She gave him a wry look.

He cocked an eyebrow, seeming a bit annoyed. "You are far too sarcastic, has anyone told you that before?"

"And you are far too weird. Do you do this a lot?"

"Of course."

Rachel grinned, warming up to the man slightly. He seemed to pick up on this, the annoyed expression vanishing. Replacing it with one of casual indifference, he raised a gloved hand towards her, his other still holding hers.

"Look, as interesting as this evening has been, I don't have time to play around here all night with you...as tempting as it sounds," he shot her a suggestive look, which caused Rachel's eyes to bug out in mild shock. "I came here to ask if you wanted a remedy for this sadness in you that I see. For the reason you do...what you do," he gestured to her cuts, his eyes sweeping over them.

"What remedy would that be?"

"Don't interrupt girl, let me finish. It's like a script you know, you never talk during a movie, do you?" He huffed.

"No."

"Well good, let me finish then." He paused, waiting to see if she would say anything. Satisfied when she didn't, he continued on. "I can take you to a place unlike you've ever been. A place where the magic of flight and transformation would not be so strange to you. A place that would help you fill the void inside of you that you fill with..." his eyes flitted to the fallen razor, "...all the wrong things."

"Your lying, there is no such place," Rachel broke her silence, interrupting again. "There couldn't be."

"And just where do you think I come from?" He demanded. "You think ordinary folk fly about whenever the mood strikes them?"

"No, I guess not."

"Right then, the place is real! Just because your limited imagination can't conjure it doesn't mean it doesn't exist!"

"Okay, supposing for a minute I don't think your totally insane and maybe think your telling the truth...why me?" She asked, a bit skeptical. But Rictus' charms, chameleon-like as they were, were slowly working.

"Why not?" He shrugged. "I only want to make you feel a bit happier without having to resort to these..." he gestured to the cuts, "...fake feelings."

"I guess that's good..." She trailed off with a sigh.

"Excellent! Then I shall have them reserve a room for you..."

"-but wait, what about my parents? What about school, I am in High School you know, and senior year..."

"-is overrated!" He beat her to the punch, shaking his head. "How old are you now anyway? Fifteen? Sixteen?"

"Seventeen, actually," she muttered.

"My my, I am cutting it rather close." He grinned. "We do have age-restrictions of sorts you know. Can't very well have fun with adults mincing about and messing it all up can we?"

"I guess not..."

"Of course not. But I think we can make an exception with you. You've still a ways to go before that unhappy chapter in your life rolls in, I think." He stood suddenly, pulling her up with him with a gentle tug at her wounded wrist. "Come now, why not play a little at it before it's too late?" He winked, his tone honey-sweet. "Don't you want to escape this monogamy, at least once in your life?"

She thought about this for a moment. "Yeah, I do."

"Then it's settled. I'll pop in on you a few days from now, once all the arrangements are made..."

"-I'll let my parents know."

"No!" he countered sharply, though quickly continued with a less agitated tone. "Listen, you can't let them know where your going, you know they wouldn't let you go. You can call them once your there to let them know, but for now its better we keep this between you and me, our little secret, alright?" He leaned in closer, smiling.

"Well..."

"It's not like you've had trouble keeping secrets in the past," he raised an eyebrow, and Rachel knew he was referring to her cutting.

"Alright then, I won't tell anybody. But if this is a setup to kidnap me or something..." she started, her tone dark.

"Sweetling, if I wanted to hurt you, I could sit back and watch you do it for me." His words stung, hitting home hard enough to silence her.

"Don't call me sweetling," she scowled, causing his grin to widen and a brief laugh to escape him.

"Watch for me then, won't you?" He asked, sauntering over to the open window.

"Wait, what are you..." She started, but was cut off as a sudden gust of wind found itself into her room, filling Rictus' suit as though he were inflated, and lifting him clear off of the floor and into the night sky.

"_Watch for me sweetling_." He called over the din of the wind. _"Till we are together again then!"_ He let out a long peal of laughter then, which echoed and eventually vanished along with him into the dark.

* * *

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Once a Thief**

**By:** E.R.M. Griffin

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

It would be a full four days later before Rictus made his second appearance. In that span of time, Rachel had begun to believe she had imagined the strange man with the pointed ears and the sharks grin. So, convinced she had only dreamt him and his promises of a better place, she retreated back to her usual routine. School began as it always did, and found her wandering hallways and sitting through boring classes.

Most of the time she found herself alone, but for the small circle of friends she was a part of. Rachel was with one such friend on that particular fourth day, sitting outside during lunch. The girl with her was a year younger then Rachel, with short copper-colored hair and gray eyes. Her name was Marril. Despite being younger, Marril looked the older of the two. This was mostly due in part that she just looked healthier. Her build was stronger, not bulky but rather not quite as underfed as Rachel sometimes looked.

"Christ, don't you eat?" Marril often asked her. More often then not, she received the same response. None.

On this fourth day, during which the sun shone brightly in the mid-day sky and the other students were scattered about eating lunch or smoking, the two sat alone. On this day, at that particular moment, Rachel happened to glance upwards and catch a glimpse of a familiar shape wavering high amongst the clouds.

"Listen, I forgot a book in my locker, I'll grab it," Rachel excused herself, not wanting Marril to see Rictus. She had promised to keep their meeting a secret after all, and this secret in particular seemed rather important. Excusing herself again before Marril could offer to come with her, she was up and dashing around the side of the school, to a shady corner away from the crowds.

There she waited, until the floating shape began to descend towards her, remaining in the random shadows of trees or buildings as to avoid being seen.

"Rictus!" Rachel exclaimed once he was close enough to be recognized.

"Ah sweetling, did you miss me?" He grinned mischievously.

Rachel was surprised to realize she had, and told him so.

"Of course, the ladies always do," he winked.

Rolling her eyes, Rachel crossed her arms. "I was starting to think you'd never be back." She smiled sadly.

"Oh? Thought Rictus would just dash off without so much as a phone call or a letter did you?" He laughed. "Shows what you know. I've come back haven't I? Bearing good news to boot!"

"Good news?"

"Indeed!" He nodded enthusiastically. "My boss has decided there's room for you. I had to put in a good word you understand, but we can leave right now!"

"Now, right now?"

"Well why not?"

"Well...I'm at school."

"So?" He shot her a dry look.

"Right, never mind then." She shook her head and laughed. "So what now?"

He extended his arm in overly showy gallantry. "Shall we then?"

"Let's shall!" She grinned back at him, and taking his offered arm, was soon en-route to the wonderland he had promised.

The journey there, if she had expected something mystical or grand, was somewhat of a disappointment thus far. They walked the streets together, strangely enough coming across no other people as they walked. It was as though Rictus knew which streets, which alleyways would be clear and which to take.

They arrived at their destination. It was a solid brick wall in front of which Rachel now stood, trying to wrap her mind around what Rictus wanted her to do.

"You want me to...walk through the wall..."

"Right."

"The _solid _stone wall?"

"Right again sweetling."

"I've told you not to call me that." She muttered, only half-annoyed.

"So you have, so you have."

More so to prove him wrong then right, she took a step forward, and walked toward the wall. However, instead of her face bashing into solid rock as she had expected, Rachel found the path before her unobstructed. When she did walk into said wall, she found the path clear. There appeared around her a momentary gray haze. One that would have caused her to become lost in its seeming immensity had it not been for Rictus' hand on her arm, pulling her slowly forward.

"Watch your step, this next one can get you!" He laughed. Together, they walked forward.

Moments later they were there, and there was somewhere she had never been before. Rachel stood very still, gaping at the landscape before her. It was green and blue and perfect, with trees so tall and a sweet fresh smell in the air, so different from the city.

Rising high up above everything else, towering with windows and chimneys and balconies and things, was a house. A grand, bright house sitting alone on a green hilltop.

"What..." she trailed off, still mesmerized.

Rictus laughed. "Welcome to Holiday House!" He grinned, spinning her around in a short dance before giving her a gentle shove for the intended way. "Go on then, they're waiting for you!"

"Who?"

"You'll see!" His eyes sparkled mysteriously.

Rachel took off in a brisk jog towards the house.

Just as she had reached the front door, a girl ran past her, missing her by scant inches. Seeing Rachel standing there, the girl stopped in her tracks, and turned to grin at her. She looked to be a few years younger then Rachel, and was wearing a plain blue dress.

"Hey, I guess you must be Rachel."

"Yes, that's me. How did you know?" Rachel asked, looking at the girl curiously.

"Oh Rictus always talks about stuff, he doesn't know how to stop!" She grinned. "Name's Abigail, by the way!" She curtsied, her long almond-colored hair falling into her eyes in messy strands.

"I'm...right, you already know my name, never mind then."

Rictus walked up behind them then, heading into the house. "Ah, I see you two are through with introductions," he nodded approvingly. "Good good," he passed Abigail, shooting her a smirk as he did. "And don't think I didn't hear you just now girl, I got sharper hearing then a bat!"

"And a bigger mouth then a bass, I bet!" Abigail stuck out her tongue at him.

"Abigail, really now!"

Another voice broke into the throe, and Rachel turned to see a new face. An old woman had appeared on the porch. Her snow-white hair was tied back in a loose bun on her head, and her face was covered in more creases then anyone could count. But it was with good humor that she spoke, addressing the new arrival.

"Rachel, how wonderful that you made it!" She smiled, motioning for Rachel to come onto the porch. As she climbed the steps towards the old woman, a darting shape flitted past, coming to a halt around the woman's legs.

"Clue-Cat, you snoop. Come to see a new face have you?" The old woman laughed, shaking her head, then looked back at Rachel. "Too curious, that one. I'm Mrs. Griffin by the way, so nice to see you decided to come. Not too often we get older visitors here. Abigail's been the eldest guest so far, and she's fifteen."

"Yeah, Rictus said I was cutting it close."

"He was right, though I think youth of the heart is considered more important here then how old you are. But you seem to be the sort to enjoy it here."

"I hope so."

After a bit more idle chit chat between them, Mrs. Griffin ushered everyone inside, casting a quick glance at Rictus, who vanished off to the side of the house. Once inside, she made short work of seating Rachel down to a scrumptious meal, which the younger woman complimented more then once.

After she had finished eating, Abigail came up to her and offered to show her around.

"Come on! I'll show you your room, Mrs. Griffin already showed me where it is. Then we can take a look around the house, maybe get you some different clothes," Abigail wrinkled her nose at the long-sleeved shirt Rachel wore. "It's too hot out for that, why don't you get something with short sleeves?"

The other girl stiffened visibly, at a loss for an explanation that wouldn't require the truth. She didn't want anyone else to know about the scars. Bad enough Rictus had already seen them, never mind the ones on her legs, hidden by jeans.

_No wearing a skirt, I guess._ She bit her lip.

"Um...are there clothes for me in my room?" Rachel tried to change the subject.

"Oh yeah, closet full! Wanna go up and pick something out before we go out and explore? It'll be dark soon, and I wanna give you the tour before that."

Rachel hesitated, then shot her a weak smile. "Tell you what, I'll find something nice to wear and meet you down here in a bit okay, it won't take long. I'd like some time to just...digest everything, you know."

"Oh, course!" Abigail rose from the table, heading towards the front door. "Just hurry up okay, and meet me outside when your ready."

"Right, okay."

With a last word to Mrs. Griffin and a pet on the head to Clue-Cat, Rachel went off up the stairs, looking for the room Mrs. Griffin had mentioned was hers.

"Third from the left..." she muttered under her breath as she reached the top landing.

"Right here, _sweetling_!"

Letting out an impatient sigh, Rachel turned to see Rictus standing by a closed door. She assumed it was hers, and saw that it was indeed, third from the left. Rictus opened the door for her, following her inside without waiting for an invitation.

She turned only when she heard him close the door.

"Thanks...for bringing me here, I mean," she leaned against a pretty oak dresser, regarding him with weary eyes.

"No need to thank me." He shrugged, shooting another one of his dazzling smiles. "By the way, did you want to change before you meet Abigail?"

"Not really..."

"No need to wear short sleeves...or shorts, for that matter." He caught her shocked expression. "I figured, since you have them all over your arms. Legs too, am I right?"

She nodded, her gaze still fixed on him.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," he winked, "...on one condition!"

"What?" She asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

When next he spoke, his tone was different. Serious. "You don't do it again while you're here."

"Okay."

"I mean it Ms. Rivers, none of that while you are here," he repeated, his tone so formal he addressed her by her last name. "No cutting, so slitting, no biting...unless I'm the one doing that," he grinned, suddenly playful once more.

"Hey!" She blushed furiously, not used to anyone talking to her in such an open manner. "...I don't bite."

"I think properly persuaded..."

"_Rictus!"_

"Right, off I go to leave you to dress then." He paused. "Might I suggest the charming little number on your bed!" He motioned behind her, and Rachel turned to see an old-fashioned checkered white and red dress lying neatly on her bed. It had long sleeves, and the hem was low enough to fall around her ankles.

"Yeah, that's perfect!" She grinned. "That'll be..." She turned, and startled when she saw she was alone in the room. Rictus had vanished.

* * *

_To Be Continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Once a Thief**

**By:** E.R.M. Griffin

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

With a good hour left before dusk, Abigail and Rachel took time to explore the house, as well as the land around it. The house itself was much bigger on the inside then Rachel had originally assumed. There seemed to be rooms with windows that she couldn't find when looking from the outside, some so big it was strange they fit at all. Then again, she was quickly becoming familiar with the idea of real magic, and the more she saw, the less she wanted to ask questions. Instead, she took to simply enjoying the oddities the house provided.

One particular oddity met both girls outside. It was a man, if Rachel could have called him that at all. He was seated on the white wooden railing of the front porch, one leg dangling over the edge, his head back against the post.

"Oh, there's Jive!" Abigail spoke before they had come within the man's hearing range.

Rachel looked him over, a bit surprised. He was more caricature than man, so tall and thin that one would think the lightest breeze would surely blow him away. His skin was the same strange yellow tone as Rictus', and his ears were just as pointed. His hair was a mass of oiled curls, sticking all about, which seemed to almost writhe on his head.

"This place just keeps getting weirder" Rachel blinked, her eyes a bit wide.

"We do try."

The man lowered himself onto the floor of the porch in one swift motion, presenting a strange sort of grace to his odd form. It was with a nimble turn and step that found him right in front of Abigail and Rachel only a moment later, bowing to both with vigor.

"Aren't you overdoing it?" Abigail rolled her eyes.

"How about you go feed the fishies," He glared, bringing his thin face close to the younger girl's. It was clear by the tone of his voice and the shine in his eyes that he meant her to be the fish food.

But the comment seemed to do the trick, as Abigail shut her mouth almost instantly, taking a few safe steps back.

"That lake is gross" she muttered under her breath, pouting visibly.

But Jive didn't pay her any more attention, focusing instead on Rachel. The man's scrutinizing gaze made her a bit edgy, until she too had to take a step back.

"Ah, you must be Rachel then. Rictus told me he would be bringing someone new. Said you were simply a-fascintin'." He grinned. "Though heck if I know what he means by that. My brother has a tendency to talk a good bit."

"Brother?"

"Yes indeed-do!"

"Well, I do see the similarities," Rachel spoke, a wry look on her face.

"Just the two of us I'm afraid. Rest of the brood are in their own particular categories!"

"You have more brothers?"

"Yep!" Abigail cut it suddenly, having recovered from Jive's earlier comment. "There's Marr! She's their sister, definitely doesn't look a thing like them"

"-don't let her hear you say that!" Jive grinned.

"...and there's one more brother, but I haven't seen him yet. What's his name again?"

"Carna. He's around, keeps to himself though." Jive shrugged. He did a sudden pirouette, turning towards the house. "But I must be off. I'll see you both later then. Welcome to Holiday House, Rachel," he bowed again, then vanished into the house.

"Wow...so that was Rictus' brother" Rachel muttered to herself.

"Yeah, they're a weird bunch," Abigail shrugged. "Particularly Marr, really creepy!"

"Well, I do owe Rictus for bringing me here. If it weren't for him, I'd still be at school," she smiled wistfully.

"Aw, he doesn't deserve all the credit!"

"Oh?"

"Nope. Mr. Hood's the one you should thank for that! He's the one who owns the house, and let us all come here."

"Sounds like a pretty nice guy."

"Well, I haven't seen him myself, but I hear good things." Abigail paused as they reached the edge of a flower-covered field, looking out onto a foggier landscape ahead. "He kinda keeps to himself though, like a hermit."

Rachel looked out ahead, waiting for Abigail to keep walking. But the other girl simply stared ahead, a nervous look on her face.

"What? What are you looking at?" Rachel asked.

"Oh, never mind. There's nothing out there. Place just gives me the creeps, that's all" Abigail trailed off, turning around. Rachel could see that the other girl was preparing to return to the house, but wasn't about to let her off the hook that easily.

"No, you look nervous. What's out there?" She prodded, genuinely curious.

"Just a lake, is all. Gloomy and ugly, full of big ugly fish!" Abigail didn't stop, continuing her trek back to the house. "Come on, I wanna be back before it gets too dark. I still gotta find a costume."

"What for?"

"Halloween, of course. Night time means Halloween, and you need a good costume for that. A scary costume!" She grinned, putting her fingers to the sides of her head in a devil mockery.

Rachel was a bit surprised with the mention of a nightly Halloween. But with all the strange sights the House had offered so far, Halloween every night didn't seem so strange.

"Can I be a cat, or an angel?"

Abigail rolled her eyes. "That's not scary, that's sissy stuff."

"Hey!"

They continued on, heading into the house and out of sight moments later. After they had vanished, two pairs of eyes turned their sights from the ground below and back to each other.

"You know what the others are saying, don't you?" Jive asked, balanced perfectly on one of the House's low chimneys. Directly across from him stood Rictus, shooting him a rather disdainful look.

"What?"

"Word is, oh brother of mine, that you have developed a taste for certain company"

"Oh brilliant. What oh-so reliable source did this spur from?"

"Hood himself has been watching you brother!" Jive spat, his tone deadly serious. "He's watched you move about, listened to you, and looked into your head"

"-so what?"

"Don't dally about with that girl!"

A loud bark of laughter pierced the cooling night air. "You deduced all this from a span of barely a week then? During which I've seen her barely thrice?" He shook his head, his grin spread wide. "Tell me something Jive, were you genuinely concerned for our purpose here, or simply looking for a reason to run off and tattle to _daddy_?"

"I'm simply giving you fair warning _brother!_" Jive retorted. "Don't let Hood catch you doing something you oughtn't!"

Without another word, the sinewy of the two brothers turned swiftly and vanished from the rooftop of the house seconds later, leaving Rictus alone.

_Idiot_ He thought to himself, shaking his head. But there was a hushed whisper then, a familiar alto-voice in the air that was but a brief sound. Yet Rictus knew it served as a warning to back-up Jive's words. "It's nothing," he said to the air after a moment. "It's nothing"

He made his way off the roof then, by way of the trap door in a dark corner. Taking the steps down into the house slowly, he made sure he was not seen before proceeding down into the relative innocence of the living room.

There was someone else there, and for a moment Rictus hesitated, thinking it to be Rachel. But when the girl turned towards him, becoming aware of his presence, he saw it was only Abigail sitting before the fire.

"What is it your doing there?" He asked, trying to look inconspicuous.

The little girl shrugged. "Just thinkin', is all."

"My my, are you up to such a challenging task girl?" Rictus grinned, feeling some of his humor return to him. "Wouldn't want you to over-exert yourself."

"Oh, real funny."

"Where's Rachel?" He winced suddenly, wanting to bite his traitorous tongue.

"Who wants to know?"

"I do."

"She wandered back outside a little while ago." Abigail shrugged. "Told her not to go out alone in the dark, she doesn't know the whole place that well yet. But she said she wanted to be alone for a bit."

"Alone?"

"Yeah, she looked like there was something she needed to think about, you know. I think she just needs to get used to this place, is all."

"Right," Rictus turned, making his way toward the front door, pausing to only grab his hat from a hanger nearby.

"Hey, why are you so interested?"

The front door open and shut a second later, leaving Abigail's question unanswered, and the girl even more confused.

Making his way off the porch, Rictus started the search with the rear end of the house. As per usual with each Halloween, the walk there would have been long. But he was immune to Hood's enchantments, so it was a fairly short sprint that brought him there. Yet the search proved fruitless, but for two boys playing monsters nearby.

"Elliot! John!" Rictus called to them, motioning to be seen. "Either of you two gents seen Rachel nearby?"

"Yeah!" Elliot, the younger of the two boys replied. "She walked out a little while ago, headed away from the house though!"

Rictus nodded to him, then turned and quickly made his way back the way he had come, continuing onward after he had returned to the front of the house. The more he walked, the more worried he became.

_What if she's off somewhere cutting herself again? Stupid girl._ He fumed, suddenly angry. _But she promised, didn't she? She promised she wouldn't._ He shook his head, laughing at himself. _Funny thing, me angry about broken promises. As though I've done any better._ He followed the patch that led to a field ordinarily covered in flowers during the day. But in the spirit of Halloween, Hood's magic had twisted it into near-grotesquery. The flowers were dead for the night.

He moved through the field, occasionally hearing the crunch of dry flowers underfoot. It was a sound that he found oddly comforting.

_What if she is cutting herself! And hurt! Worst...what if she's gone back through the wall when nobody was looking? What if..._

He reached the edge of the field, and could see the lake in the near distance. Someone was standing there, looking into the dark waters cautiously. As he made his way closer he was almost relieved to find it was Rachel. She was standing on the bank of the lake, looking down into the black water with only mild interest, and a hint of disgust.

"Ugly little things, aren't they?" He spoke, now directly behind her.

Rachel let out a cry, not having seen him approach. She took an unexpected step backwards, not recognizing him for a moment. Rictus knew what was going to happen half a second before it did. Rachel's foot slipped on the wet bank, causing her to lose balance, teetering on the edge for a moment before pitching forward towards the water.

There was a resounding splash, accompanied by a shocked cry and a second splash moments later.

Rachel felt the vile lake water enter her mouth as soon as she fell in, causing her to instinctively part her lips to spit it out, only to have more rush inside.

Her eyes were open, and stung. Opening her eyes beneath the freezing lake did her next to no good. It was as though she were lost in liquid night, blackness everywhere around her. For a moment, she was unsure in which direction she was supposed to swim.

Suddenly, she felt something lean wrap tight around her waist and screamed. More of the filthy water invaded her and she began to choke. But whatever had its hold of her didn't let go, pulling her further down into the depths of the lake.

_It's going to drown me! _Her mind screamed, realizing there was nothing she could do. _I'm going to die._

She could already feel herself growing weak from lack of air, and her chest burned painfully as more water made its way past her lips and into her lungs. Still the thing dragged her along, now almost as motion-less as a doll. But she could still think clearly enough, even past the pain of her drowning. In the inky dark around her, she suddenly saw a small slash of light. It grew bigger as the pain worsened, until she felt she could simply reach up and touch it.

_So there really is a light when you die. _She thought weakly.

Her hand managed to rise slowly, reaching up in hopes of making the pain of death a shorter process. Yet when she did reach up, she found her fingers parted _through_ the water.

Seconds later, she followed, and her head emerged from the lake, pulled up by whatever it was that had taken hold of her. Coughing violently, she felt herself pulled along the water until she could feel the bank.

"Come on then, up you go!"

Looking up weakly, she saw Rictus climb up to the bank, his hold still tight on her. He pulled her up after him moments later, letting her lie on the grass. Rachel went into a brief coughing fit, clearing the water that had gone down her throat. It left her shivering on the ground from the cold, slightly in shock.

"What's wrong with you girl, why didn't you swim up out of the water?" Rictus demanded between gasps. He was trying to catch his breath, and sat beside the shivering girl.

"Can't....can't...swim," she managed to utter, followed by a strangled sound between a cough and a laugh. "S-Sorry."

He paused, a bit surprised. Then shook his head and let out a sigh. When he looked back at her, his familiar grin had returned, though it was rather comical. His glasses lay a bit crooked, and had water trailing slightly over the glass.

Rachel couldn't resist a weak laugh, as she reached up and adjusted them for him.

As she did so, Rictus' hand reached out and grasped her wrist gently, his fingers intertwining with hers. Rachel felt a blush creep over her face as his fingers moved against hers.

"What were you doing out here all alone anyway?" Rictus asked, not missing how red she suddenly looked. "I thought you and Abigail would perhaps be enjoying Halloween together."

"Yeah, I just..."

"It's what you're here for, you know. You, sweetling, are here to enjoy yourself, and time can be so short here..." he paused for a moment, fearing to reveal too much. "...well, you don't want to waste it moping away, looking at ugly fish, do you?"

"No, I guess you're right," Rachel sighed, suddenly feeling a little silly for coming out to the lake.

"Of course I'm right, woman," he grinned, "I'm always right."

Rachel laughed, shaking her head in amusement. When she looked back at him, their eyes met momentarily in the dark, and she found herself inching forward slowly. When he didn't move, his gaze still locked to hers, she moved a bit closer, until her bangs brushed his forehead.

_What am I doing?_ Her mind mused, but she was too lost in this sudden haze to concentrate.

It was Rictus who moved first. He turned his head towards the lake with a weak cough, seeming interested in something on the water.

"We should get back, I'm sure Abigail's worried about you!" His voice had gone a bit tight, his grin faltering slightly.

"Yeah...I guess."

They walked back, neither speaking of the incident or what had happened on the bank afterward. What little conversation they exchanged was uncomfortably formal.

When they reached the porch, Rachel almost felt a sense of relief at parting ways.

"Well, you get yourself changed into something less wet, eh!" Rictus nodded.

"Yeah, I'll do that." She smiled. "Hey!"

"Yes?"

"Thanks...for jumping in, I mean. You probably saved my life in there, you know."

"Nah," Rictus tried to wave away the comment, but it chewed at him none the less. "I'm sure you would have clawed your way to the surface eventually."

"Yeah, in the belly of one of those bloated fish!"

They laughed, though Rictus' humor seemed strained.

"Well...I'll see you later then" he started to make his way back to the rear of the house, before pausing to turn back. "Oh, don't forget to make a wish!"

"Wish?"

"Christmas morning, you know. Anything you wish for, that sort of thing. Perhaps a snorkel!"

"Oh, that's real funny."

They parted ways then, with Rachel heading back into the house. No sooner had she stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind her that Mrs. Griffin appeared to jump at her from out of nowhere.

"Goodness gracious child, what in the world happened to you?" She gasped, immediately ushering Rachel towards the fireplace in the living room. She wasted no time getting the girl a blanket and a steaming cup of hot chocolate. "You'll catch a death of cold wandering around outside at night all wet like that, what happened?"

While sipping her hot chocolate, Rachel went on to explain to Mrs. Griffin the events of the last short while. She conveniently left out the part about what had happened on the bank, preferring not to share that bit of information with anyone.

"Well, you were certainly lucky Rictus came by when he did, dear" Mrs. Griffin's words were warm, but her expression betrayed something else. She seemed doubtful of something, even worried.

"Hey, are you okay, Mrs. Griffin?"

"Oh? Oh! Yes, of course." She replied, quickly masking the look on her face with a cheery smile. "But I just worry for you child, you must do anything so fool hardy like that again!"

"Yeah, I'll get Rictus to come with me next time, so he can save me if I fall in again!" She joked, but her laugh ran short as she noticed the grim expression on the old woman's face deepen.

"Jeez...I'm really sorry Mrs. Griffin, I was just kidding. I won't do it again, I promise!" She apologized hastily, not wanting to upset the woman further. "I know it was really stupid of me, I just..."

"-Oh, it's not that dear, it wasn't your fault. I just think...well" she trailed off, seeming not so sure of how to best continue.

"What?"

"...well, perhaps it's best if you leave Rictus be, dear."

The comment caught Rachel a bit off-guard. "But...I didn't...I mean, _he_ came looking for me!" Rachel shot the woman a completely blank look. But by the steady, serious expression on her face, she was suddenly glad she hadn't told her about what had happened on the bank.

"Oh...it's nothing bad or the like. It's just that Rictus is a man. I fear this may sound a bit wrong but...well, it's truly for the best to just stay away from him." Mrs. Griffin's words were hesitant.

"Stay away from him?" Rachel echoed. "Don't you think you might be overreacting a bit. I mean, it's not like he pushed me in or anything, he _dove_ in there and saved me! He hauled me back up to the bank by himself." She was suddenly a bit annoyed, and it showed in her tone. "Besides, I told you. I wasn't looking for him, I just wanted to be alone for a bit.

"I wasn't implying that dear, I just-"

"Look, you wanna give me a legitimate reason as to why you would say that? You must have one or why else would you bring it up?"

Mrs. Griffin shook her head, sighing sadly. "Rictus is simply..."

"-Rachel, what happened?" Abigail came into the livingroom, interrupting whatever Mrs. Griffin had been about to say as she saw the state of her older friend. "Did you get caught in a rainstorm or something?"

Rachel rose, muttering a weak goodnight to Mrs. Griffin before making her way upstairs to her room with Abigail in tow.

"Look, I'll tell you about it tomorrow, okay Abby?" She muttered after the girl had inquired again. "I'm really tired, I just wanna get some sleep."

"Well...okay." The other girl replied, a bit hesitant. She moved on down to the hall to her own door, and after bidding Rachel goodnight, vanished into her room.

Rachel settled herself into her bed moments later, shivering despite the heavy blankets on the bed.

* * *

_To Be Continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Once a Thief**

**By: **E.R.M. Griffin

* * *

**CHAPTER 4  
**

Rachel always found it strange how dreams worked. In most cases, it was always easier to remember the dreams you would rather forget than the ones that you tried to remember. In this case, the nightmares that had accompanied her during the night had chosen to stay on until morning, the images burned vividly into her waking memory. The nightmares--as calling them dreams seemed very wrong--hadn't really come as a surprise. Images of bloated, flesh-eating fish swam around in Rachel's head for most of the morning, making breakfast somewhat unappetizing. It was over that same breakfast that Abigail spoke to her, breaking Rachel out of her reverie.

"What did you wish for?"

Rachel glanced up, her eyes a bit glazed. "Huh?"

"The wish, remember! I told you about it before!"

"Oh yeah, of course," Rachel nodded. "I didn't think much about it, though I guess wishing for a good night's sleep would have been a good idea." She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

"Bad night?"

"Nightmares," she replied with a nod.

Abigail got up long enough to grab an extra slice of toasted bread and the pitcher of pink lemonade from the fridge. "Yeah, I guess you sort of had that coming."

Rachel blinked. "What?"

"I mean, I heard about what happened," she added, "...with the lake and the fish, I mean. Heard you fell in!"

"Is...is that all you heard?" Rachel asked nervously. Abigail hadn't mentioned anything about Rictus, and Rachel found herself hoping that the younger girl hadn't heard the full details of what had happened by the lake the previous night. She wondered how Abigail found out in the first place. As far as she knew, Rictus and Mrs. Griffin had been the only ones to know what had happened--really happened--at the lakeside, and even Mrs. Griffin hadn't been told the full story.

_So, did Rictus...?_ She wondered, but quickly decided against it. As talkative and free-speaking as Rictus seemed to be, he didn't strike her as someone that would do that. Particularly since he had looked as uncomfortable about the whole thing as she had felt.

"Yeah, well, Mrs. Griffin told me you had a bad fall into the lake and almost drowned or something," Abigail replied with a worried expression that looked rather misplaced on her young face. "I'm glad you're okay though." She added with a smile. She made no further mention of it for the remainder of breakfast.

The conversation turned to different things. Mrs. Griffin's cooking at one point, when Jive sauntered in and stuck a finger into the chocolate mix while the old woman's back was turned (missing a wooden spoon to the hand by a scant inch). He licked the chocolate off his finger with a boastful grin and sat himself down next to Abigail, ignoring her annoyed expression. "Tip-top of the morning to everyone!" He spoke in a sing-song voice, leaning back in his chair.

"You'll fall over if you keep doing that!" Abigail rolled her eyes.

Jive made a face at her. "In which case, I'll take you down with me!"

"Pervert."

Jive gave her a look of mock-shock, his eyes wide and his mouth slack. "I don't think I like what you're insinuating," he huffed, "...besides, Brother Rictus is a far bigger per..._Rictus!_" He grinned, jumped to his feet and bowed theatrically. "Fancy that, we were just talking about you."

Rictus had appeared at the door, and was now rolling his eyes at his brother's exertions. "Calm down, won't you."

"Oh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, eh?" Jive poked. "Well, just take a gander at dear Mrs. Griffin's chocolate cake, she baked it herself, you know!" He smacked his lips. "D-e-e-e-licious!"

"Well who else would bake it, you can't cook!" Rictus smirked, grinning widely at the tempered expression on Jive's face.

Abigail seemed to sense the oncoming of something that may have happened many times before and cut in before Jive could reply. "Hey, anyone up for going outside, it's really nice out today!"

Elliot and John, who had just come in, joined them around the large table. Both boys were wearing jeans covered in dirt and had spent the majority of the morning playing tag and climbing the trees in the woods that seemed to have appeared overnight. But then, the appearance of such things was rarely questioned, at least not anymore.

Elliot grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from a bowl Mrs. Griffin has set on the table. "We've been outside, it's really great out."

"Yeah!" His brother spoke up, "We should all go!"

"Well, it does look nice out." Abigail chirped, a grin plastered on her face. She glanced at Rachel, who shrugged. Grabbing some cookies off the table, both girls headed for the side door with John and Elliot following behind them. The moment they stepped into the early morning, a pleasant chill made its way down Rachel's back, she turned, only to find Rictus holding out a coat to her from the door.

"It's a bit cold out, don't want to get sick, do you, sweetling?" He winked.

"Don't call me sweetling!" She replied in a wry voice, but there was a smile tugging at her lips as Rictus handed her the coat which he returned in earnest. For a moment, the two stood there smiling at each other. They were interrupted by Mrs. Griffin coming up behind Rictus and Rachel didn't miss the frown that danced across the old woman's face. Before Mrs. Griffin could say anything, Rachel turned and headed towards the far side of the house, where Abigail, John, and Elliot were waving for her to hurry up. Her walk turned into a brisk run until she was standing with them.

Rictus, having watched her leave, turned back to the door, his grin suddenly a sneer. "Something I can help you with, my dear Mrs. Griffin?" He asked, his voice honey-sweet. His face betrayed his anger. "You seem troubled."

Mrs. Griffin was silent, her breathing quick. She shook her head. "N..no. Nothing, just wanted to make sure they all wore coats...thank you for bringing Rachel's." She turned to go back into the kitchen, but hadn't even taken the first step when she felt Rictus' cold hand wrap around her wrist, tightening enough that it almost hurt.

"Good good. I would hate it if there was anything wrong...," he leaned closer. "Any of us would, you know. We like keeping everyone happy." He was face-to-face with her, his sneer slowly turning back to his regular wide smile. "We like to keep a smile on your face...got it?" When she didn't reply, Rictus' hand tightened further, until the old woman gasped and nodded quickly. "Well then...great!"

Mrs. Griffin pulled her hand back, Rictus' fingers having loosened. She said nothing as he walked past her and headed up the stairs, vanishing somewhere into the house. She had a pretty good idea of where he was going.

Jive, having remained sitting at the kitchen table through the entire thing, eyed her as she closed the side door and made her way back to the cake she had been preparing. Her hands were shaking visibly.

Looking up, she caught his eye and took a deep breath as Jive smiled back at her. "Think the cake will take much longer?"

* * *

The game of choice had become hide and go seek and there was no shortage of places to hide when it came to Holiday House. A quick game or rock, paper, scissors decided John would be "it" while the others made plans to hide.

"Just one rule, keep it around the house, okay?" John asked. "It sucks if I have to take the whole game to look for one person."

"Yeah, that's okay, there's plenty of places to hide around here," Abigail shrugged. "Just no going back inside the house, either!" She walked up to Rachel, leaning over to whisper in her ear. _"There's a crawl space beneath the porch, coming?"_

Rachel grinned and nodded.

The game continued throughout the day, pausing only briefly for snack or bathroom breaks. John's luck didn't seem to tide over well, having lost the rock, paper, scissors game more than any of them, tagging him the most "it" out of anyone. It also took him longest to find them. Rachel and Abigail seemed rather good at finding one another, while Elliot was caught twice in a row standing around trying to find a place to hide.

Dusk came, and the sun shone over the horizon in fragments. Rachel was "it" and was making her way around the house to the front porch. Having looked everywhere else, she was willing to bet that Abigail had decided to try hiding under the porch again. As she turned the corner, she heard familiar voices and found Abigail and Jive standing together, exchanging what looked to be an argument. Fearing as much, Rachel jogged over to them, but found that what had at first looked to be a fight was in actuality a sarcastic debate.

"-and you're just scared you'll lose, chicken!" Abigail was saying, her lips set in a distinctive smirk.

Jive, not to be outdone, was returning the unknown challenge with ardor. "No, I just have better things to do. Anyways, like you could really out-think me with that teeny-tiny brain of yours!"

"Wha-," Abigail huffed, then turned when she saw Rachel run up. "Rachel, tell Jive I'm smarter than him!"

Rachel cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Jive, she's smarter than you!"

"Hey!"

Laughing, Rachel looked between the two of them. "So what are you arguing about, exactly?"

She listened as Abigail explained that Jive had been sitting around the porch when Abigail had come around the front of the house to look for a hiding place, only to have him start poking fun at her choice of said hiding place (which she didn't reveal to Rachel all the same). So she had challenged him to find a better one, to which he had replied that he could think of a million better places to hide than she ever could. So here they were now, with Abigail trying to goad Jive into joining their game of hide-and-go-seek.

"So what's the problem?" Rachel asked.

"I don't want to play this stupid game!" Jive replied, almost in a whine.

Rachel laughed. "Well you said you could do better than her!"

"Yeah!" Abigail chirped. "So prove it! Unless you're just all talk."

Jive shot her a bitter look, but his shoulders slumped as he realized that denying the game would be the equivalent of admitting defeat, which he was in no way prepared to do. Sucking up his anger, he begrudgingly agreed. "But, only on one condition!"

"What?" Abigail and Rachel simultaneously asked.

_"Rictus!"_

The first of the two siblings appeared in the open front door seemingly out of nowhere at the sound of his brother's shrill call, carrying a white hat in one hand. At the sight of the small gathering in front of him, he froze and regarded them all with a nervous, but unyielding grin.

"Yes?"

"Brother, our honor has been challenged!" Jive stated, one hand raised in the air. "We must defend it!"

"Pardon me?"

Rachel smirked. "Abigail wants Jive to play hide-and-go-seek with us, and I take it Jive...," she nodded in the sinewy man's direction, "...wants you to join in."

Rictus looked between his brother and Abigail, then back at Rachel. For a moment, his eyes rested on her and Rachel felt a familiar flush rising in her cheeks.

"Yes...sure, I'll play."

So the game began anew. John and Elliot came out of hiding, having hidden in the crawl space beneath the porch. So the six of them played played rock-paper-scissors until Elliot and Rachel were the last two left.

"Rock beats scissors, you're it Rachel!" Elliot grinned, lightly knocking his fist against her hand.

Sighing, Rachel turned and put her hands up against the house, hiding her eyes and counting out loud. "One...two..three...you guys better hurry up...four...five..." She counted slowly until she reached fifty, then opened her eyes and turned back around to find herself alone.

First thing was first, she looked inside the crawl space. However, it seemed that particular hiding place had worn itself out. There was nobody there. Moving on, she took careful note of the thick bushes around the house, knowing full well how easy it would be for someone to hide inside them, but again, found nobody. By then, the sun had set completely and it was dark. The change around the house seem to come out of nowhere. One moment, the grass had been green and the sky blue. Now, dry leaves crunched under her running shoes and the sky had gone to a dark, pasty gray. The full moon peeked out from behind some equally dark clouds, barely lighting her way.

It was Halloween at Holiday House, and in true Halloween spirit, everything around her had suddenly become _different_. The trip around the house seemed to take longer then it had during the day, and there suddenly seemed to be nooks and crannies all around it where a person could hide that she hadn't seen before. Yet somehow, this wasn't too surprising. Halloween, after all, was all about changes.

Having arrived at the rear corner of the house, Rachel heard the faint sound of leaves crunching. Freezing in place, she closed her eyes to listen. Again, there was the same sound, like someone shifting in place. Moving closer to the sound, she saw a rather large hole at the corner she had just turned, hidden by some shrubbery. It was big enough to let someone through, so she got on her hands and knees and peered inside.

The sound repeated, and this time, Rachel was certain she had found someone's hiding spot. She could barely make out the faint outline of someone crouching inside the tiny space.

"Abby?"

There was a noise, like someone hissing through their teeth. Rachel leaned closer, ready to stick her head into the hole and flush out whoever had hidden there. Suddenly, someone gripped at her shoulders and pulled her back roughly, just as a clawed hand reached out of the hole in front of her and made a wild grab for her face. Rachel let out a startled yelp and reared backwards, propelling herself back and against whoever was standing behind her, sending them both to the ground.

Panicking, she turned to dart away, but felt a pair of familiar hands settle on her shoulders and hold her tightly in place. _"Rachel, calm down!"_ Rictus' voice, between a sharp laugh and shout snapped Rachel out of her panic and froze her in place. Slowly, her eyes strayed from the dark hole in front of her and she was able to turn her head and look Rictus in the face.

"What...what the hell is in there?" She pointed ahead, to where the clawed thing had reached for her moments before. Yet there was nothing coming out, and as she squinted, trying to see the outline of the thing in the hole, she found she no longer could. Whatever had been in there had gone. "Something just tried to grab at me! I heard it in there. I _saw _it!" She babbled. Her voice died in her throat as she felt Rictus arms snake around her waist and draw her closer. Leaning back, she rested against him momentarily, feeling the panic inside her calm slowly.

"Breathe, sweetling. It's fine. There's nothing there now." His voice was strained and she wondered if he was lying.

After a moment, her breathing returned to normal and she was able to think straight. It was strange, but whatever the thing in the hole had been, it had filled her with an almost indescribable sense of fear. Not a sense of pretend fear, but something more substantial, something _real._ In short, it had made her genuinely fear for her life, and she had barely seen it.

"Sweetling?" Rictus whispered.

"Yeah?"

"While I don't at all mind playing your night in shining armor...," His voice was right next to her ear and Rachel felt his breath tickle her neck. She flushed red. "...you have a bit of a painful grip!"

Blinking, she realized she had been hanging on to his arms, her fingers digging down hard into the material of his white suit, right down to the skin. She loosened them immediately and heard him sigh in relief. She felt a small streak of guilt. She suddenly found it difficult to speak. The position she found herself in now felt disturbingly familiar, if not a dash more intimate then she would have liked. Yet there they were, her back resting against his chest and his arms around her waist. Her hands rested lightly on the cuffs of his suit and his face was near enough that she could feel strands of his hair tickling her cheek.

It occurred to her that anyone who came upon them then would get the entirely wrong impression. Yet there they were, and once again she found herself slowly turning to look at him. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, yet she could see his chest falling and rising rapidly. His smile had faltered at some point and the expression on his face had become one of obvious unease.

_Almost...he almost looks afraid._ She thought, a bit surprised. _Of course he does, did you not see that thing in the hole? Didn't you feel that same fear just a second ago?_ A voice in her head demanded. She agreed mutely, remembering the feeling, even as it had faded over the last few minutes. But then, who was to say that Rictus' fear, though better hidden than hers, had gone as well? Whatever had been in that hole had obviously scared him as well. _Yet he's here anyway. Could you have said the same? Would you have stayed?_ She felt momentarily ashamed, because she couldn't answer that question._ ...that was brave..._

So, to thank him, but more to ease the fear she saw in his eyes, Rachel leaned towards him and kissed his cheek lightly, pulling back at the same moment he turned to look at her, an incredulous expression on his face. Seeing that expression, Rachel felt her nerves crumble and felt a rush of embarrassment. She was glad that it had gotten so dark out, because there was no doubt that had face had gone a good shade of red. Her eyes from Rictus' face. For a moment she continued to look away until finally she forced herself to slowly, almost cautiously look back. He he was still looking at her, though the expression on his face had calmed, his eyes no longer wide in surprise, but rather intent behind his spectacles.

Both seemed to be concentrating on not looking away from one another, though Rachel was screaming inside at the effort. Their noses touched first. She knew that she wanted to kiss him, yet she also knew that Rictus was someone she barely knew.

_But...but I still want to kiss him...God, I want to kiss him so badly..._ She realized, and that realization made her breath catch.

Rictus' gloved hand was touching her cheek, a sensation she was only dimly aware of.

She didn't know him. Not at all. She didn't know a single thing about him.

_I want to kiss him._

_

* * *

To Be Continued..._

**Author's Note: **Yes, I'm well-aware the effects of eating food had on Jive in _Thief of Always_, however Rictus also mentioned having tried Mrs. Griffin's cooking at one point, so I assume that while any food Hood (The House) created was dust and therefore, the House Siblings couldn't eat it, any "real" food (like any cooked by Mrs. Griffin) could be considered safe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Once a Thief**

**By: **E.R.M. Griffin

* * *

**CHAPTER 5**

_I want to kiss him.  
_

A chorus of yells from different directions sent them both to their feet in an instant, looking in opposite ways. Someone, by the sound of it, probably John, was calling out. From the opposite direction, Jive was echoing the call. A moment later, Mrs. Griffin's voice was carrying on the night wind. All of them were calling out for the same name.

Rachel felt a familiar, anxious fear well up inside her. "Where's Abigail?"

As if on cue, John and Elliot both came running around opposite ends of the house, stopping a few feet away from them. Both were panting and took a moment to catch their breaths before speaking.

Elliot was first, a flashlight in his hand. "Have you two seen Abigail?" His young brow was furrowed in worry. "She and I were hiding together and something went past us, making a weird noise. She crept out to look and just vanished!"

"We can't find her anywhere! We've been calling for her the last few minutes but she's not outside!" John added.

Rictus, who seemed to have completely regained his usual cool demeanor, gave a small wave of his hand. "The two of you are panicking for nothing. Young Abigail is probably back inside the house, eating cookies in the kitchen right-."

"No!" John interrupted. "Mrs. Griffin would have seen her and she hasn't either!"

"Have you searched all around the house?" Rachel asked. Her fear was biting harder and harder. _That thing. That thing that tried to get me...what was it? What if whatever it was got Abigail? What if..._ It went on and on, the fear building up inside her slowly. The rising anxiety must have registered on her face, even in the darkness. She felt a hand settle slowly on her shoulder, and turned to see a grinning Rictus, who winked at her playfully. Her fingers pressed down lightly.

_He's nervous._ She realized. _He's really nervous._

"How far along have you looked?" Rictus addressed the two boys.

"Everywhere but the lake, she would never go there," Elliot replied.

John nodded. "Yeah, she hated the place."

Rictus looked thoughtful, and then walked ahead, toward the front of the house. "Then we shall search the inside of the house. She's hiding, you know. Playing a prank on you two gents!" His smile was back, the expression Rachel had seen gone, as though it had never been there. She almost wondered if it had been. If the last ten minutes or so had just been her imagination.

The two boys shared an uncomfortable look, but eventually shrugged.

Rachel shook her head. "I don't know..."

"-Come now, in any case, we can search the house, flush your little friend out!" Rictus interrupted.

Finding she had no other choice, Rachel nodded. "Alright, then we'll search the house. I suppose that it wouldn't hurt, since she's apparently not out here. Anyway, I don't think searching the woods or the lake this late would be a good idea. We could get lost trying to find her!" She gave Rictus a small, shaky, smile, which he returned.

So they set about the house, Jive and Rictus making more of a game of the search then anyone else. John and Elliot paired off and searched the top floors, while Rachel decided to check out the ground floor and basement. Mrs. Griffin accompanied her through most of the ground floor, but the old woman exhausted easily, and eventually enlisted Blue-Cat to guide her along the basement.

"It's dark down there, and bigger than you would think!" She spoke in a soft voice. "Blue-Cat knows every nook and cranny!"

"Thanks Mrs. Griffin."

Mrs. Griffin's eyes looked strangely sad and there was an expression on her face that Rachel couldn't place. It was almost as though the old woman knew more then she was telling. Somehow, the idea didn't strike Rachel as surprising. Lately, there were more and more things she was finding rather strange about Holiday House and those who lived in it, never mind the Christmas mornings or Halloween nights. Something that could go deeper than that.

She headed down the stairs and into the basement. As per Halloween fashion, the light-switch didn't work and she was forced to light her way with the help of a small flashlight. Blue-Cat darted ahead of her down the narrow stairwell and vanished into the blackness ahead. Once she made it to the bottom of the stairs, Rachel couldn't help but hesitate. It was almost like standing in front of a giant black hole, and she feared stepping into it would result in disappearing into nothingness.

_Like Abigail..._ She shook her head, her jaw clenching in determination. She wasn't going to think thoughts like that, she decided. This was just a basement, nothing sinister about it. Just a basement where someone could very easily hide behind a stray shadow, waiting for just the right moment to jump out and yell "Boo!" That image fueled her further and Rachel was able to propel herself into that darkness, her flashlight playing over the basement as she walked.

Her flashlight moved from corner to corner, the thin stream of light washing over dozens of old cardboard boxes and discarded toys, sitting alone on dusty wooden chairs. There were plenty of nooks and crannies for a little girl to be hiding.

_Plenty for a monster to be hiding too!_ Rachel forced the thought out of her mind the moment it appeared, but it didn't stop the chill of fear from traveling down her spine. _I wish Rictus was here..._

There was a flash of movement to one side and Rachel whirled in time to catch a spindly, thin creature pouncing at her from the darkness. As it reached out its hands for her, the fingers more like extended talons, she couldn't stop the shrill shriek that had built up in her throat over the last half-second from escaping past her lips.

The monster froze, its claws inches from her face.

"Well now, you seem excited to see me!" Jive blinked, lowering his hands.

Rachel, whose hand had come to rest against her chest, tried to steady her breathing, her anger flaring. _"Wha...what's wrong with you?"_ She demanded in a shaky, panicked voice.

"Hm?"

She took a deep breath, steadying her pounding heart. "You scared the hell out of me! Why were you down here?"

Jive cocked an eyebrow at her. "Same reason you are, I suspect. Looking for a certain lost little urchin!" He rolled his eyes, turning away from her. Rachel saw that he held a flashlight firmly in one hand. The beam was weak, and flickered occasionally. He moved away from her then, moving further into the basement. When he saw she wasn't following, he pointed the flashlight at her face, his voice laced with sweetness. "Coming?"

Rachel frowned, following after him somewhat reluctantly. Yet, reluctant or not, she was finding herself becoming more and more desperate to find Abigail. Trick or not, she just wanted to make sure the girl was alright. Whatever had been outside during the hide-and-go-seek game was probably still out there.

"So, you and Brother Rictus seem rather chummy!" Jive broke the silence first, his tone remaining sweet. Yet Rachel had the impression that had she seen his face, the expression there wouldn't have mirrored his voice. She wasn't sure exactly why she felt that was, but she suddenly found herself uneasy about being in the basement all alone with Jive.

"I guess so, yeah."

"Hm."

Rachel walked up beside him. "What?"

"Oh, just curious...," Jive trailed off, his face suddenly solemn. He froze suddenly, the two of them having reached a rear corner in the basement, and lowered himself down until he was just barely kneeling, actually balanced close to the ground. He alternated by rocking back and forth on his feet, his long, lean legs drawn together, while his tapered fingers drummed at his knees. When he looked up at her, Rachel found herself kneeling down to be at eye level with him. She found, to her amusement, that even then he was a full head and a half taller than she.

"What is it?"

He was silent for a moment, his eyes focusing on her face with an intensity that made her want to fidget. "You know...," and his voice became a mere whisper, so much so that Rachel was forced to strain to hear it, "...we may not find her."

"What?" Rachel's eyes widened, not sure she had heard him right. "What are you talking about?"

"Sometimes...sometimes people just go." His expression was becoming grave. Rachel realized it sounded more as though he were expecting her to _accept_ what he was saying rather than believe it. "She could have just went away, alright?" It was harsher now, not a warning, but more a threat. His voice was dripping with it, his eyes narrowed to two slits, from which only blackness glittered. He was leaning closer to her, his face inches from hers. She was only dimly aware of the fact that his hand--and it suddenly felt like a talon, it truly did--had come to tangle into her hair, tightening into a fist near the base of her skull. Almost painful. "Could have just gone home...isn't that right?" He was even closer, and for a moment, Rachel was deathly afraid that he meant to kiss her.

_Oh God. Don't let him. Please, please don't let him._

Just as the thought she might scream, he drew away and rose to her feet, leaning down to lightly grasp her shoulders and help pull Rachel to her feet as well.

Whatever had taken hold of him just a second ago seemed to have washed itself from his system and he was suddenly back to being his usual self. He rocked back and forth, smiling at her. "Well, there's obviously nobody down here but the two of us, eh?" He put an arm around her shoulder solicitously and led her back to the stairs. The basement suddenly seemed brighter, the flashlights they carried no longer necessary.

Leading the way, Rachel climbed back up the stairs with Jive following closely behind, practically on her heels. She kept her eyes on the stairs until a shadow blocked off the light coming from upstairs. Looking up, she saw Rictus standing at the top of the stairwell, looking down at them with a grin that looked far more forced than natural.

"Any luck down there?" He called to them.

"Nope, 'fraid not!" Jive sighed, pushing past Rachel playfully. "Nothing but boxes and dust bunnies, and neither can talk, I fear."

"How very droll."

The skinnier of the brotherly duo took past the basement door and into the living room without a backward glance, and Rachel heard him taking the stairs up, probably two or three at a time. She climbed the rest of the way, until she was standing with Rictus beside the door.

"Alright?" He asked her, noting the expression on her face.

She started to nod, then took a deep breath and just shrugged. "I guess you didn't find her?"

"No, no hair nor hide, I fear," he replied.

Rachel frowned, suddenly angry. Angry with Jive for having behaved to strangely, at herself for letting him get away with it, at Rictus for not being there, and even at Abigail, for having vanished in the first place.

"Sweetling? Are you alright?" Rictus asked. "You look a mite flustered, by the looks of you."

Some delicate line inside her seemed to come undone, and she turned to him, her voice hard. "I told you not to call me that." Turning, she walked away from him and headed to the kitchen before he could react, and was outside in two strides, the side door slamming behind her.

Rictus stayed still a moment, a feeling of mixed hurt and anger filling him almost uncontrollably. He was unable to explain why it overtook him so suddenly and yet it did, leaving him rooted in place for a full minute, his teeth clenched in a sneer that was frighteningly unfamiliar on his face. At least, to anyone else but him.

_Something happened in that basement, I think._ A voice in his head whispered. But that was silly, of course. Something was happening all around them, to all of them. Something was always happening, and it was never good.

There was a groaning in the walls, a sound that one could attribute to the settling of an old house. But naturally, he knew better than that.

Oh yes, he knew far better.

Every house had its own set of ears and eyes, some more than others. _But none…_he mused_…none anywhere nearly as acute as these. None nearly so astute to all that goes on around it._ He suppressed a shudder, lest that very same house were looking into his mind's eye that very moment, as he knew it was able to do. _But it's only a game, she and I. Is it not? Of course…_

"Of course…of course it is. And games are fun, when they are to be had." He grinned.

But still, there was that pulling from somewhere deep inside him. Yes, this was all a game now.

_A game in danger of becoming something more, something much more. Can't play forever, can you?_ And he was terrified to find that he couldn't tell if that was his mind's voice or someone else's.

The House was always listening, after all.

He didn't hesitate then, simply walked out the door and followed the newest guest into the night.

* * *

_To Be Continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Once a Thief**

**By:** E.R.M. Griffin

**Summary:** Starting before the events of The Thief of Always, Hood has always had loyal servants to aid him in his conquests, until Rictus encounters a situation that may turn him from his master forever.

* * *

**CHAPTER 6**

Rachel really had no idea as to where she was headed. All she knew was that she wanted to find Abigail, and the best way to do that was to scour every last cubic inch of the place, even if it took her all night. To add to the already mounting tension in the air, she found herself almost unbelievably furious, the encounter with Jive having shaken her--indeed, having _scared_ her--to the core. She wasn't sure exactly why she suddenly felt as angry as she did, but she could warrant a good guess.

_I was comfortable here_. She thought, her face set in a stony expression. _I was comfortable and felt like I didn't need to..._She glanced down briefly, the bottom of her dress moving as she walked, just enough to reveal a glimpse of a familiar scar. One of many. _So now what?_ She let out a slow, long breath, her walk taking her around the rear of the house and down the path that headed towards the woods. She paused half-way there, her feet crunching against the October-leaves as she came to a stop.

She felt lost. Lost and afraid and unable to think of anyone she could turn to about it. _Great, first the cutting, now the angst. _She almost laughed, the stereotype she was being forced into suddenly seeming almost absurdly funny. _And Rictus..._ She let out a dry, soft laugh. She didn't know what the hell was wrong with her, but when it came to him, it seemed as though any common-sense she could have harbored chose to scatter to the four winds. Though she had to admit, that with the choices she had made over the period of the last few weeks (and further back still) it was laughable to imagine she had much common sense at all.

_Back there, back at the house, he saved me from something. _She frowned. _But what? Something was there and whatever it was, it was dangerous and...and _wrong_ somehow. _Her thoughts drifted from the thing that had tried to grab her, to Rictus, pulling her away at the last moment. She thought of the feel of his arms, wrapped lightly around her waist, stands of his hair brushing against her face, the warmth of his breath against her cheek as they had leaned closer together...

_I'm insane. That must be it. I've completely lost my mind. _She shut her eyes tightly. _I know next to--no, absolutely _nothing_ about him. Really, about any of them, or that house. All I know is that he flew into my bedroom one day, whisked me off to this house...and...and..._

She couldn't stop thinking about him.

Forcing herself back to the task at hand, she tore her thoughts away from her strange seducer, and back to the reason she was out and about in the darkness. Back to her missing friend.

_Abigail, where the hell are you?_

Heading onward would leave her through the thicket of trees and bramble of the Halloween-night forest. It was, as she had learned through her brief stay, not somewhere she wanted to be at night. Particularly now, with the knowledge that the dark and frightening shadows dancing between the trees were perhaps more than illusions. Perhaps a bit more tangible than she had been led to believe. Yet moving past all that would lead her to the lake, and though it was the least likely places to find her, Abigail hadn't turned up everywhere else.

Then again, to move along the edge of the woods would lead back to the wall where Rictus had led her only three--_or was it four?--_weeks prior. She couldn't remember anymore, exactly how long she had been at the house. Time had passed strangely, and it seemed anywhere from days to weeks had passed.

She started on the path again, keeping her eyes ahead, trying to ignore the ongoing movement of whatever hid amidst the woods. She tried to think of the walk, and of Abigail, but found it difficult. Never the less, she pressed on, but not without finding a brief solace in a hint of doubt that found itself into her mind. It had much to do with what Jive had said and although it had sounded more like a threat at the time, right now, it sounded too tempting to let go.

_Maybe she really did leave. _

Oh, but it did sound so very enticing. To wrap herself in the security of Jive's words--his threat--and just let it all be. To turn around, go back to the house, go to her room, and sleep until the morning had wiped away all traces of fear and doubt from her mind.

But that wasn't going to be happening.

_But then, if she did go home, I could go back too and try to find her, and then I could be positive. _She considered this, finding the option far more to her liking. _And if not, I could ask for help once I'm there..._

She wouldn't be able to tell anyone the truth, obviously. Yet there were always little while lies she could tell that would lead to the same conclusion. A young girl vanishing would lead to the same consequence, no matter what angle she took to explain it. So, without a second thought, she changed direction, heading instead along the outside of the forest. The further along she walked, the better she felt. The distance she was putting between herself and the house comforted her. Yet the more she walked, the harder she had to concentrate on where she was going. A fog seemed to creep out of nowhere, pushing all around her and surrounding her in gray gloom.

A second later, she heard a sound that chilled her to the bone, startling her and causing her to whirl back around to look towards the house. It wasn't a shriek, so much as a _keening. _A drawn-out wail that traveled the length of the grounds between the house and the woods, freezing her in place where she stood. Her eyes sought the source desperately, both terrified of seeing whatever had caused the outcry and terrified of _not_ seeing it, and having it set its sights upon her. A second later, there, upon the roof of the Holiday House, she saw it. At first, she saw only two silhouettes, standing close together atop the roof of the house. One was shaped distinctly like a man. One was not.

Rachel's breath caught in her throat. No, one of the two figures was not a man. Whatever it was, it hunched down, about half the height of the other figure. Long, spindle-thin arms rested at its sides, and wings extended from its back. It was certainly no man, and neither were those the wings of any bird or such thing. No, these were more like the wings of some large bat, extended out behind the creature's body.

Was this the creature that had almost grabbed her earlier that night? She couldn't be sure, but she was willing to bet on it. It seemed to rise slightly, and then issued forth another cry, the wind carrying it to Rachel's ears almost instantly. The second time broke whatever spell had kept her in place, giving her enough of an adrenaline rush to will her legs to move and her eyes to turn away from the house and back into the depths of the fog. Somewhere inside that same fog, there was a wall, and beyond that wall lay an exit through which she would happily return. Abigail of no Abigail, she would bring back help.

Just as surely as Rachel was making her way through the fog, the figures observing her escape were getting ready to retrieve her. Jive, who had remained silent as he had watched Rachel change direction from the forest to the fog, glanced briefly at his deformed brother, thousands of teeth gnashing together in wild anticipation as it issued forth such a cry that would surely curdle the blood of anyone who heard it. Sometimes, it even chilled Jive.

True, they were all guilty of one thing or another, but none were so far apart from the norm as Carna. Watching the creature now, it was hard to believe that Hood had constructed the monstrosity from the same mold as the other siblings. Even Marr, who in herself was a grotesque to see, didn't evoke the same sense of blank terror from those who looked upon her. No, there was nobody quite like Carna.

Even now, Carna was flexing its large, membrane-like wings into the air, preparing itself to fly to its prey. Jive, who stood at the edge of the roof, raised his hand suddenly, stopping the creature.

"One moment brother, if you would!" He addressed Carna formally, though often doubted if the monster could fully understand speech past basic orders. In any case, it stopped, looking to its sinewy sibling with an expression of dumb obedience.

Jive squinted, looking to the front porch of the house, where seconds before, he had watched a second figure walk down the steps and away from the house. He didn't need to think twice about the identity of the new player in this game. The contrast of his brother's white suit against the otherwise black night gave him away.

"Well, well, now, dear brother Rictus, and where would you be off to in such a hurry, eh?" He muttered under his breath. "Off to follow after her, like a good little puppy-dog. Oh, brother-of-mine, whatever shall be done?" He shook his head, laughing bitterly. It gave him little pleasure to see the scene unfold. And yet, never had he known Rictus to stray from obedience, and it occurred to him that perhaps he was seeing too much into this himself, even if Hood thought the same. Perhaps it was just Rictus playing a perverse little game, as was his forte to do so. So, against his better judgment, he halted Carna from flight with a second wave of his hand, sending the creature scurrying off to some dark corner. "Just be sure to bring her back," he spoke to nobody in particular, though his eyes remained on the slowly distancing back of his brother.

Rictus meanwhile, was acutely aware of a pair of eyes practically burning holes into his back as he walked. Never the less, his step never faltered, and he kept his eyes on the path ahead. One could have probably applauded his marvelous amount of self-control, yet the truth was, that he wasn't all together sure why he was following after Rachel in the first place. In his defense, he could try telling himself that it was merely to calm her down and bring her back, restrain her if need be to keep her out of the way. He knew the responsibility of her actions would fall on him, having been the one to choose her for his master.

Yet, for the life of him, he still couldn't figure out why he had chosen her. The reason he had been initially drawn to her was simple enough. He was always drawn to those who needed to "get away", as he liked to think of it. Those who sat by their subconscious windows day by day, wishing for something--or someone--to fly in and take them away.

It just so happened that he was that someone.

So when he had heard the call, he had no choice but to seek out the one behind it. He hadn't had an inkling of who he would find, or whether or not they would be acceptable under Hood's expectations, but he had gone all the same. That's how it was, every single time. Sometimes he got lucky and found someone that he knew could be properly persuaded to return with him, sometimes he didn't. It was luck of the draw. In finding Rachel, who was keenly balanced between what Hood looked for and what he didn't, he had been lucky.

Now, of course, he wasn't all that sure.

Yes, that could all be used to his defense, with his silver tongue and his misgiving smile, he knew he was more than capable at holding his own claims. Of course, it then came to the matter of what could be used against him...

He picked up the pace, already having a pretty clear idea of where to go, judging by the ruckus that had come from the roof. By the sounds of it, Carna had been more than ready to head out, which meant that Rachel had found her way into the fog that led outside. Whether or not she could work her way through it and find the wall was a redundant question. It wasn't about her finding the way out, so much as the fact that she was _trying._

_Which, of course, means that she sees something amiss, _he thought, his eyes narrowed in an expression that was less malice, but rather concentration. _Which means she's in a grand-'ol'-heap of danger now._ _Silly, stupid, sweetling._ He couldn't help the slight pull at the corner of his lip as he thought of her and caught himself before it stretched into a genuine smile. _Silly, stupid, me._

He reached the outskirts of the fog and entered without hesitation, his senses keen and his direction flawless. He knew exactly where to go, and had faith enough that he could beat his quarry to her target. It wasn't an easy task, navigating through the fog, particularly for someone who didn't know how to go about it. It had a way of turning you this way and that, misleading your eyes and ears and almost make it like something was...

_...coming after me. Something's coming for me. _Rachel, who was but a stone's throw from where she had entered the fog, and from where at that very moment, Rictus stood quite still, couldn't stop the anxious beating of her heart. She couldn't for the life of her, recall how long she had been wandering around in the grayness. Hadn't it been minutes now? Mere seconds? The fog seemed to close in all around her, turning her this way and that, until left became right, forward became backward, and she was no longer sure of where she was. Yet had that been the worst of it, perhaps the sudden grip of terror she had found herself to suffer wouldn't have hung on quite so hard. No, the worst of it was the feeling of being watched. Not only watched, but _pursued. _As though she were walking in circles as something took a straight line to where she cowered, coming closer with each passing moment.

There were sights and sounds to be had in the gray, that shouldn't have been there. That were, perhaps, not really there at all, but rather in her mind. Whichever the case, the effect was still the same, making her blood run cold and her breath come in small, strangled gasps. At that moment, she wished more than anything that she had stayed at the house--_no--_that she had stayed home and kept her windows firmly locked to the charming intruder who had so cunningly convinced her to follow him.

But God, how she wished Rictus were there with her. How she wished he were able to extend his hand and pull her to safety as he had done twice already. Whatever his intentions, she wished he were there so desperately...

_"Sweetling?"_

Even her mind was playing tricks on her, causing her to stumble in mid-run, looking this way and that into the emptiness. But there was nobody there.

_"Where are you sweetling?"_

"Rictus?" She gasped, her eyes flying over the constant scenery around her but unable to find him. She began to think her mind was playing tricks on her after all. He wasn't there. He couldn't be. She was alone.

_"Rachel!"_

Her eyes widened at the sound of her name. It was so odd to hear him call her, even more so for that he called her by her first name. _"Rictus! Rictus, where are you?" _She cried out into the fog, turning a full circle, trying to hear from what direction his voice was coming from. It sounded so close-by, and yet she saw nothing. She kept turning, her head whipping left to right as her eyes flew around the same dense, grayness. Her breath came in strangled gasps and she found herself feeling suffocated and dizzy. Her mind swam with disjointed thoughts and at the very epitome of that pyramid was that she would never find her way out of this place, that she would feel the way she was feeling at that very moment for the rest of her life. However long that would be.

Her mind screamed. Perhaps she screamed as well. _Oh God._

_OH GOD._

Something reached out from the fray and took hold of her, claws digging into her skin and teeth ripping into her face. She shrieked as a blinding panic settled over her, and the shriek echoed inside her head until she couldn't sure whether it was a single scream or a long stream of incoherent, shrill cries.

_"RACHEL, RACHEL!"_

It was howling into her face, howling her name even as it tore her apart...

_"DAMN IT ALL WOMAN, CALM DOWN!"_

The claws suddenly became fingers, clamped securely against her back, arms holding her tightly before a face which was, in actuality, not tearing into her with razor-teeth, but resting cool skin tightly against her own. Someone was holding her firmly, against the struggle she had resorted to in the last few moments, which was slowly dying down. Even as she ceased to move completely, her arms wound around her savior, and her mind still a bit too far gone to register anything but the feel of him against her, she tried to calm herself. Even then, it took a while to register that it was Rictus who was holding her, one hand moving to her hair, stroking her head in an awkwardly compassionate manner, shushing her and whispering comforts into her ear that registered just barely enough to work their desired effect.

Even as those whispers hid a purpose of their own, working magic inside them until her eyes had closed, succumbing to their spell.

Rictus, who moments later, ceased those whispers and let the magic run its course, took a deep breath and let it out in a single, steady stream. Rachel had settled against him, and he found himself sinking to his knees to keep balance, taking her down as well, too lost in sleep to be disturbed by the movement. He shifted his body to allow one arm to come under her knees, the other around her shoulders, positioning her to lie against him in her slumber. He held her that way a moment, at a loss for what to do. Looking down at her face, he found it strange to know what he knew about her. Nobody would guess she did what she did just by looking at her. Her face was too ordinary, almost plain. But there was such peace there when she slept, it made him feel like smiling. So he did, giving in to the urge and letting a wide grin plaster itself onto his face.

Without thinking, he leaned down slightly and pressed his lips against her forehead. It took him a moment to register what he was doing and once he had, he found that the surprise of it was a rather pleasant, almost amusingly wicked one. He parted his lips, wanting to see what she tasted like. A chill ran up his back suddenly, causing him to pull back before he could act upon his last impulse, an incredulous expression finding its way onto his face. A pinprick of fear clouded his emotions momentarily.

"Well, my little sweetling...what shall be done now?"

* * *

_To Be Continued..._


	7. Chapter 7

**Once a Thief**

**By:** E.R.M. Griffin

**Summary:** Starting before the events of The Thief of Always, Hood has always had loyal servants to aid him in his conquests, until Rictus encounters a situation that may turn him from his master forever.

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

He wasn't accustomed to casting glimmer spells. Really, they were a strain on his already limited abilities. In fact, had it not been for his particularly effective powers of persuasion, Rictus would have had very little to arm him for the situation that was playing out. So it wasn't the glimmer he cast on Rachel--dulling her senses to an almost cow-like placidity--that he considered his greatest weapon. No, his abilities would allow him to wipe the events of that night from her mind and hopefully repair the damage that her running away may have caused. A slight touch, a gentle subconscious suggestion, and she would forget that anything had ever felt wrong.

At least, he prayed it would be that easy.

_Of course, wretched girl simply _had_ to run away, didn't she?_ Rictus glowered. No doubt that Jive had a hand in that, of course, but he wasn't about to go voicing _that_ particular tidbit. Better he keep his thoughts to himself. _Even then, they are not so safe._

_And what of me?_ Indeed, he thought. What of him? What of Rictus, who, in his many years of servitude and collecting and smiling and stealing and killing...he felt his jaw clench involuntarily. So many years of playing the loyal salesman, the one with the gimmick and grin, and now he felt himself become wretchedly confused.

_I've become too close, that's all! _He surmised. _I've become involved and I've become accustomed to her, that's all. _He shook his head. The way things were headed, Jive would turn out to be right and than things were bound to take a turn for the worst.

Working with the glimmer, he led the glassy-eyes girl slowly through the fog, seeing clearly the path that she had not and leading her back to Holiday House. They were almost out of the fog and Rictus had to steer himself, clearing his mind of anything but the task of returning the young charge. Hood's eyes and ears were everywhere--_almost_ everywhere--but even they could not stretch as far as the fog path back into the real world. And once you were out there, there was no way for him to find you.

_Unless, of course, he sends someone like me..._Rictus frowned, took a deep breath, and stepped completely off the path. Coming to stand a short run from the House, he waited for someone to emerge, as he well knew someone would. Hood, he knew, was watching.

Somehow, the first thing that came into his mind was the memory of kissing her. Instantly, he wiped this from his mind. Chaste as it was, it was treachery. Hood would stand for no traitors, not from amongst his own.

Mrs. Griffin was the first to appear on the porch, which, in his absence, seemed to have gained an extra few steps. The old woman made her way toward him as he stood some distance away, holding Rachel steady as she swayed on her feet.

"My poor dear, what's happened?" Mrs. Griffin fretted, and Rictus felt a small surge of jealousy as Rachel was pulled slowly away and drawn into Mrs. Griffin's arms. "Why, she's shivering. Whatever is the matter?"

"You know perfectly well, so don't play innocent," Rictus sneered, adjusting his gloves. "Just take her back into the house, I'll follow after I speak to my brother." Before Mrs. Griffin could reply, he turned on his heel and headed around the corner of the house. On the way, he made a nervous habit of removing and cleaning his spectacles, vigorously rubbing the glass lenses against the material of his shirt until his hand felt numb and he resigned to put them back on.

"My my, don't we look a bit flustered," Jive's voice, unusually animated even for him, forced Rictus to turn around as his brother appeared from the shadows behind the house. "Of course, I'm sure it has nothing to do with having to corral your little pet soul back home, does it?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Rictus snapped, "I brought her back, didn't I?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Besides, she meant little harm, she was simply looking for her little friend. She's looked everywhere else, why not into the fog? Perfectly rational..." He winced inwardly. _By God_, it was almost like he was trying to convince himself.

"-Escape attempt?"

"...She doesn't know anything," Rictus shook his head. "She thinks she saw and heard something out there in the fog-"

"Carna!"

Rictus nodded slowly, "Yes, Carna. But she doesn't know that. In fact, she doesn't have to know _anything_. She had a nightmare, after all. Little Abigail simply chose to return home, as many children do, and Rachel had a nightmare, nothing more."

"Nothing?" Jive prodded, skeptical.

"I can persuade her."

"For your sake, you had better," Jive sneered. "For I am not the one, dear brother, whom you need to convince, remember?" Before Rictus could reply, Jive bowed—his hand working through the air in dramatic pose—and vanished back into the darkness. Rictus stood still for a moment, liking the idea of his brother disappearing back into the dankness that had spat him out. There were too many things these days, he thought, that were suddenly getting on his nerves. Jive's theatrics were high on that list.

Returning around the side of the house, Rictus entered the kitchen via the side door, hanging his hat on a hook nearby. Mrs. Griffin had seated Rachel at the table and the girl was nursing a small mug of hot chocolate while Mrs. Griffin baked something that looked like chocolate chip cookies. Mrs. Griffin was the first to see him enter, turning around sharply with a bare plate clutched tight in her hands. She visibly stiffened, her fingers clutching the plate until her knuckled turned white.

"Mrs. Griffin? Are you okay?" Rachel frowned, noticing the old woman's sudden change of expression. Turning around to see what was so important, she was surprised to see Rictus standing at the side door, his hand hovering neat the hook he had just hung his hat on. Still, he didn't seem to miss a bit, dancing over to the two of them and sitting down across from Rachel, who eyed him warily.

"What are you so energetic about?" She asked.

Rictus shrugged. "Oh, nothing. I was just out and about on a walk. I hear you're not too well? It is rather late to be up and about, no?"

Rachel sipped her tea. "I had some nightmares, is all. Mrs. Griffin was nice enough to make me something to drink."

"Ah, nothing too hard, I trust?" He grinned. "Don't want you tipsy!"

"Like I'd ever get drunk here," Rachel rolled her eyes.

"I would, no doubt, take advantage of you in your state-" He laughed as her eyes widened and her jaw fell slack.

"That would be quite enough, I think," Mrs. Griffin glared at them pointedly. "I think it's time for Rachel to get off to bed," she advised, shooing the younger girl from her seat and up the stairs a moment later. Returning to the kitchen, she found Rictus still seated at the table, his feet balancing him backwards on his chair.

"You'll fall doing that," she chided, knowing it would do little good.

"Yes, I know."

They regarded each other a moment in silence, Rictus leering at the old woman in such a way that unnerved her. "You didn't...tell her anything, now did you, my dear Mrs. Griffin?" He asked softly, the same softness not extending to his eyes as sweetly as it did to his grin.

"Nothing that would endanger her sooner than it must," she replied, but seeing the look on his face deepen, quickly added, "I told her nothing, of course. She was just having a nightmare, of course..."

"Of course," he nodded, rising from his seat.

"Hood gathers her life expectancy at around seventy years, do you know what that means?" Rictus asked casually.

Mrs. Griffin shivered. "That she must stay...about two months more...?"

"Precisely!" Rictus announced. "Very good! Any earlier and the soul won't be worth as much, understand? It won't bring as much with it as a fully-lived soul would and the magic Hood spends to keep it here would amount to no good." He turned to leave, looking back one last time at Mrs. Griffin, who had clasped her hands together and was looking at him in a most strange manner. "So I would suggest that any _nightmares_ she has from now on are met with a cup of hot chocolate and nothing more. Do you understand?"

Mrs. Griffin nodded, not daring to speak.

"Good. In that case, do have a good evening," he glanced at a nearby clock, "or morning, as it were."

"Y-Yes. You too."

Making his way through the living room, Rictus took the flight of stairs two at a time, bee-lining it towards Rachel's doctor to find it ajar. Knocking twice, he didn't wait for an answer but simply pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped into the room. Rachel was sitting on the bed, an open book in her lap and a surprised expression on her face.

"Well just come on it, don't let me stop you," she muttered.

"Don't mind if I do," he laughed, sauntering over to where she sat. Without invitation, he sat on the opposite corner of the bed and winked. "How kind!"

"Very funny," she replied dryly, though a hint of a smile tugged at her lip. "Wanna tell me what you want?"

"Now who says I want anything, eh?" He frowned, his eyes widening. "Perhaps I just wanted to bid you a proper goodnight." All the while he spoke, he inched closer to her, until Rachel felt her personal bubble quite completely violated. It was when he had both arms at the side of her and his nose was just barely touching hers that she pulled back slightly, her cheeks reddening.

"Do you mind?" She coughed uncomfortably.

"Not at all!" With that, he moved forward again, pecked her on the cheek. He moved back and was out the door with a quick wave only a second later. All this he did in one fluid motion, leaving Rachel looking at the open door with her mouth agape. After recovering from what she thought just another House sibling trait—that being to get a little _too_ close for comfort-Rachel rose from the bed and walked to the door. Peeking into the hallway, she saw that Rictus had vanished and walked out when she was sure the coast was totally clear. Making her way down the hall, she stopped at the next door and knocked lightly, feeling a bit silly all the while.

_I know she went back home, but still..._She knocked lightly again, this time pressing her ear against the wood. _Just wanna be sure._

There was a sound then, like a chair scraping along the floor. It lasted only an instant, but Rachel was able to just catch it.

"Abigail?" She pressed her lips against the door, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. "Abby, are you in there?"

Another sound followed, louder than the last and clearly audible gasp. For the next seven minutes, this continued in random cause. Rachel knocked and called, and something in the room moved. Yet for all her calling, nobody came to unlock the door and pull her inside. No voice suspiciously like Abigail's called to her from within, leaving her standing in the hall in an angry sort of haze. Seeing that her present course would get her nowhere, Rachel walked back to her room, feeling a bit bitter. Shutting and locking the door behind her, she collapsed in a frustrated ball on the bed, taking a moment to scream that anger into the nearest pillow. As she did, a sort of numbness began spreading throughout her body. A sort of pins-and-needles feeling that started at her toes and fingers, working themselves out through the rest of her system until she felt uncomfortably jittery.

There was the strangest feeling biting at her, like the sort that gave you a certain self-destructive urge, like walking into incoming traffic. That feeling you got that bounced up every once in a while at random, and, though you knew to never act upon it, you thought about all the same.

Almost without realizing it, she was stretching her hand out for a nearby drawer. She wanted something, she knew. It was morning and she felt this way because she _needed _something.

_I'd really like it if it was in here,_ she thought vaguely. _Really, really wish it was..._

She reached in and felt her fingers wrap against something cold and solid. Something sharp pressed lightly against her palm. She pulled the razor out of the drawer and brought it into her lap. She looked at the blade, than out the window. The sun was shining brightly.

"Good morning," she murmured. _And Merry Christmas._

After she had finished, she cleaned the razor, returning it to its safe place in the drawer. She hardly noticed the dull sting along her thighs, but hardly minded. It beat the pins-and-needles as she slept through most of the remaining morning.

The week that followed became routine as Rachel found herself breaking the promise she had made more often than even she cared to admit. Yet for every time that she did it, she told herself this was the last time and that she wasn't doing it because she _needed_ to, but wanted to. That she wasn't addicted in a strange way, yearning for the briefest moment where she might slip away and hide in her room, if only to trace the blade of the razor over fresher cuts to open them once more.

For the life of her, she couldn't understand why. Everything was moving _so_ smoothly. Two days passed, then three, four, until a full week had gone by since the night she had found herself standing in the kitchen in the middle of the night with Mrs. Griffin eagerly making her hot chocolate. She still couldn't remember how she had come to be there, or how she had come to be dressed, for that matter. Yet Rictus had discussed it with her—rather too intimate a conversation, actually, as was his habit—and had explained she had been sleep walking.

They had spoken only briefly since then, pausing to bid each other a good day in the hall or outside. Truth be told, she saw Jive more often, who seemed extra-intent on being nice to her all of a sudden, bringing with him a tray full of cinnamon buns on one particular visit, during which they spoke late into the night about movies and books and video games.

She wondered why she had ever felt uncomfortable around him.

The sixth day passed quickly for Rachel as she had made a habit of isolating herself to the confines of her room more and more each day. Of Rictus, Jive, and Mrs. Griffin she saw very little, the arrival of two new guests taking over their attention. She had already run into both, a chubby boy by the name of Wendell and a frizzy-haired young girl named Lulu. Both were too caught up in the magic the House offered and paid her little attention.

It wasn't until the seventh day came and went that something happened to shake Rachel from the stupor of the last week. All went by as it usually did, with the seasons changing with the sun and moon. The night brought Halloween, but found her too tired to participate. Instead, Rachel went to bed early, falling asleep relatively quick.

In the middle of the night, the feeling of something cold and wet pressing against her cheek stirred her from sleep. It took her a moment to realize it was a hand. It took her another to realize it was not human. Amphibious-like fingers traveled down her cheek, leaving a trail of cold slime on her skin that produced an involuntary shudder, rousing her.

Her eyes snapped to the silhouette standing over her bed. It stared down at her, its face hidden behind the shadow of a gray hoodie. It's body was hunched and seemed strangely shaped somehow, the folds of the material it wore wrinkled or too loose in odd places.

She might have screamed and screamed quite a bit, had the thing not stepped into the light of the nearby desk lamp and revealed a familiar, yet utterly distorted face. Had it not opened its vile mouth and spoken her name in that gurgling-like voice, such as the voice of one drowning, she might have screamed long and hard and run for the door. But she saw it and she heard it. So she knew.

Her voice was a hoarse whisper. _"Abigail?"_

* * *

_To Be Continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

**Once a Thief**

**By**: E.R.M. Griffin

**Summary:** Starting before the events of _The Thief of Always_, Hood has always had loyal servants to aid him in his conquests, until Rictus encounters a situation that may turn him from his master forever.

**CHAPTER 8**

The voice was a gurgle. A thick, wet sound that emanated from somewhere deep in the throat of the thing. But it was still unmistakable. It still belonged to _her_.

_"Abigail?"_

The creature moved, a subtle nodding of its head confirming Rachel's terrified suspicions. It shifted from one foot to another; nervous.

"P-Please…," a gurgle. "Please, help…help me."

Rachel opened and closed her mouth a number of times before she produced an appropriate response. "W-Who did this? _Who_ did this to you?" She demanded, rising abruptly to her feet. Abigail; for that is who the creature was and Rachel couldn't find it in her heart to think otherwise, staggered backwards.

"Jive-"

"That son of a-," Rachel began.

"-and Rictus."

There was a sudden sinking in Rachel's stomach. A horrible realization that things had never been as they seemed. A cold disappointment. She swallowed, forcing her emotions to the back of her mind for the moment. "What did they do to you?"

"It's the house, Rachel. The house does it, somehow," Abigail tried to explain. "They work for him…" She paused suddenly, looking about her as though sensing something unseen.

"Work for who, Abby?"

The younger girl shuddered visibly, her vast black eyes swimming in her head. "He can hear me," she said softly. "He knows…"

"Who?" Rachel demanded, becoming frustrated.

_"Hood!_ It's Hood, Rachel!"

"The owner of the house?" Rachel frowned. "But we never even met him, how do you know that-."

"I know!"

There was another moment of silence. Abigail seemed to be listening for something. Whatever it was, Rachel could not hear it. Yet it sent the girl-creature skittering backwards toward the door, her slimy fingers opening it in a flash. Before Rachel had realized it, Abigail was out in the hallway.

"Wait!" Rachel called out to her. In the few seconds it took her to follow, Abigail had vanished. In pursuit, Rachel soon caught up with her just outside the front door.

"I have to go now," Abigail said to her. "He'll send that _thing_ after me if I stay…"

Rachel shook her head. "Where the hell are you going? I don't understand what's happening here! Abby, _please!"_ Her pleading led nowhere, as Abigail simply turned and stumbled on into the darkness. Rachel did not have to think hard about what direction she was headed. Only the lake, with its bloated, ugly fish lay in that direction…

_The fish!_

A sickening realization dawned on her and Rachel was suddenly rooted to the spot. Memories of the day she had fallen into the water, previously somehow left behind, came flooding back. The feeling and taste of it in her mouth, the desperate fear of drowning…

How fish-like she looked, her friend…

_But why?_

The overpowering urge to run away came to her suddenly. To run to the fog and never look back. But with the urge came another forgotten memory. A memory of something chasing her, out there in the fog. Rachel wondered just how many memories she was missing.

_What did they do to me? What are they doing to us?_

The memories, though hazy, were enough to keep her where she stood. Whatever creature had pursued her in the fog, the memory of her terror was enough to keep her weary. Hood, or the house, or whatever or whomever was responsible sent nothing for her in that moment and so Rachel felt confident enough to turn and head back inside. She shut the door behind her as quietly as she could.

"I'm so sorry…"

Suppressing a shriek of surprise, Rachel spun around to find Mrs. Griffin waiting for her. The old woman stood a short distance away, her hands clasped and her expression mournful.

Rachel took a few steps toward her. "What's happening, Mrs. Griffin?" She received no reply but for a fearful expression and a raised hand, imploring her silence. Whatever it was that Mrs. Griffin wanted to tell her, whatever she was sorry for, the old woman was in no position to speak. Someone was listening. Rachel looked on in grim fear. Was it Hood? Was the whole house not safe?

Following Mrs. Griffin's cue, she asked no further questions. Instead, she opted to play it safe. Whatever transformation had taken place in Abigail had happened over a duration of time. It was not yet happening to her, which meant that whatever it was in the house that caused it needed her to remain for some longer amount of time. She struggled to remember how long Abigail had been staying at Holiday House. Surely it had to be longer than Rachel, which bought her some time.

_Time for what?_ A tiny voice in her mind asked. _To escape. To get help!_ She reasoned with herself, though she knew nobody would believe her. _Then I'll tell them something else…something they will believe: A kidnapping or something. Anything!_

Bidding Mrs. Griffin a knowing goodnight, Rachel headed back to her room. She had climbed halfway up the stairs when she sensed someone watching her and paused. Looking up, she startled to find Rictus staring down at her.

They regarded each other in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"I'm…" he hesitated. "I hear you've had a visitor."

"Yes."

"I see."

"Yeah, I bet you do."

His smile wavered. She took it for what it was and resumed walking, passing him on the landing without a second glance. She felt angry inside. Hurt. But she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing. It was only when she felt him grip her arms uncomfortably tight and spin her around that she let out a tiny yelp.

His smile was gone, his eyes narrowed. "I saved your life!"

Rachel pulled back, wrenching away. "What for?"

Rictus' brows furrowed and he seemed to be trying to think of the appropriate thing to say. Yet the seducer was speechless. There was nothing, Rachel knew, he could have said. Instead, she spoke for him.

"Here, let me help you out! You suckered me into an evil fucking house…," she took a deep breath, trying to resist the overwhelming temptation to keep swearing, "…so you could let it, or Hood, or whoever, turn me into some kind of slimy-looking freak. Is _that_ about right?"

"I didn't-" he began to say, but Rachel turned on her heel and headed for her door before he could finish.

"Don't bother!" She spat. "You're a liar!"

"I didn't-."

Rachel opened the door, stepped into her room, and slammed it behind her as hard as she could. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes and she was ready to start screaming obscenities at him from behind the closed door before the rest of his words reached her.

"-have a choice!"

She froze. Her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to decide on a response. Had she heard right? A better question, she realized: _Was that true?_ She knew that if it wasn't, she was probably setting herself up as the biggest sucker on the planet. No further implorations came. Steeling herself, Rachel walked back to the door and opened it slowly. The hallway was empty.

How she managed to sleep at all that night was a wonder. The darkness brought nothing but nightmares.

The following morning found the world intact. The smell of breakfast wafted through the house and Rachel could hear John and Elliot laughing from somewhere on the first floor. When she finally opened her eyes, she was shocked at just how much the day seemed like all the others. This feeling only increased as she finally found the courage to head downstairs.

"Rachel dear, are you hungry?" Mrs. Griffin doted on her especially that morning, insisting she would make whatever dish struck the girl's fancy.

"I'm not hungry right now, Mrs. Griffin, but thanks anyway."

Mrs. Griffin gave her a hesitant smile. "Oh…yes, alright dear. You just let me know."

Elliot and John were helping themselves to a delicious looking pile of scrambled eggs, but Rachel found her appetite waning. Jive was already seated at the table and chirping away as though nothing at all were wrong. Rachel spoke to him whenever necessary, maintaining an air of normalcy. She remembered now, the episode in the basement and knew to tread carefully.

Watching the two young boys eat across the table, she longed for their ignorance. They were still living inside the dream, she realized. Still in the haze of wishes and magic that clouded the victims of the house to its true purpose.

_Whatever that is._

She watched them leave a moment later and listened until their delighter cries faded. Glancing at Jive, she saw that he was smiling at her.

"Sleep well?" He inquired innocently.

"Where's Rictus?" Rachel asked softly, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Here."

Her attention snapped to the side door as Rictus chose that moment to enter the house, hanging his hat on the rack nearby. Almost on cue, Jive rose from the table and pranced out of the room with some flimsy excuse about checking on the Halloween preparations for the evening.

Mrs. Griffin stood by the stove, watching them with unease. "D-Did you hear, Rachel? We're having a new young lady join us. Jive mentioned a Halloween costume ball to celebrate!"

Rachel's blood ran cold. _A new girl?_ She stared at Rictus. _Is that where you were? Hunting again?_ She found the idea appropriate: Rictus, the seducer, the hunter; bringing back the unsuspecting.

"Don't you have something you need to do, Mrs. Griffin?" Rictus murmured, though his eyes never left Rachel. He was studying her intensely from behind his spectacles and the scrutiny made her uncomfortable.

"Oh…have…I, I was-," the old woman began to stutter, unwilling to leave Rachel alone.

"Get out."

Mrs. Griffin's shoulders sank and with a last apologetic look at Rachel, she left the room. Rachel listened to her receding steps as she climbed the stairs. She sat in silence and with a growing sense of discomfort until Rictus finally moved to sit across from her at the kitchen table. He sat back in his chair, biting his lip. Rachel tried to avoid looking at him. From the corner of her eye, she watched as he leaned forward slowly, his hands clasping on the table.

"Do you like costume balls?" He asked suddenly.

She frowned. "I-."

"Because you are going. With me, specifically. I've been charged with keeping an eye on you until it's over and so I shall."

"You mean until what happened to Abigail happens to me."

"Yes."

She shuddered. "Well, that's the first time you've been honest."

"Not the first."

Rachel pursed her lips, wondering just how many times his words and emotions _had_ been genuine. She remembered suddenly, the way he'd pulled her from the lake. The way he'd saved her from the thing beneath the house. The moment in the fog. Her eyes sank to her hands, clenched tightly in her lap.

"I don't want to go with you," she said softly. There was a tone of hurt to her voice she regretted instantly. She felt weak, helpless. Like a child. She hated that feeling.

There was the sound of his chair scraping against the ground as he pulled away from the table. He came to sit next to her. Rachel tensed visibly.

A moment of silence followed during which Rachel could not find the courage to look Rictus in the face. When at last he spoke, it was gentler than before. Yet the words chilled her to the bone. "Do you want to know the alternative?"

"Yes…"

"My brother will beat you until you are bleeding. Then he will lock you inside a dark, wooden box for the remainder of your time here. You will be alone and helpless, completely. When it is finished, you will be thrown into the lake with the others."

She could not suppress a sob, her shoulders quaking. When his hand closed gingerly over her shoulder, she shrank away. The touch was alien and wrong. That he could tell her so easily, such an awful thing and then want to comfort her. That was truly monstrous.

He said nothing else and so after a moment, she finally looked up at him. His eyes were elsewhere, glassy. He seemed to be listening for something and she was reminded of Abigail from the previous night. She too had listened for something unheard. If they were being watched, if something could hear them, Rachel knew to choose her words carefully.

"You know…the last thing you said last night?" She prodded.

His eyes snapped to hers and he nodded very slowly.

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Was _that_ true?"

He did not reply but only nodded once more, the smallest, most subtle movement.

She could not suppress a strangled gasp of relief. There was no assurance it was the truth, of course. He was an excellent manipulator; a very good liar. But she desperately needed someone to believe. Poor choice though he was, it eased her all the same.

"If you…come with me, tonight. If you just be good, I promise I won't let my brother hurt you. I can't…," he looked away, "…stop what will happen, but I can make it easier. You can have anything you want while you stay." His eyes were wide, imploring.

"Anything I want…," she wanted to hit him. That he would ply her even now…

He nodded enthusiastically. "Anything, sweetling! Games and food and pretty things…whatever you want!"

There was a building sense of _something_ inside her. Irrational. Wrong. Sick. He was too close to her, she realized. She drew a slow breath. "Anything?"

"Anything!"

Rachel wasn't sure what provoked her decision. She only knew that for the moment, she felt utterly without control over her fate and if she had control over just one thing, it would be enough to keep her from going insane with fear. She didn't want to think about the lake. She didn't want to think about the fish or the darkness waiting for her. So instead, she grasped the lapels of Rictus' shirt and pulled.

She needed a rush of adrenaline. She needed to feel something _else_.

His lips were cold, slack in shock. At first she felt nothing.

Then the pressure of her mouth seemed to snap him awake. In an instant his arms were about her as he pushed off his chair and pulled her with him.

Outside, it began to rain.

_To Be Continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

The sound of the rain on the sill seemed deafening. It was instant, the outpouring from the sky coming down in buckets. It was that sound that sent Rictus backwards hard enough that he nearly fell over his chair. His absence left Rachel with a fleeting sense of coldness. His hand was to his mouth, guarded. Still, he blushed ferociously.

_"What-."_

"I'm sorry!" She said quickly. They regarded each other in silence, shocked. Outside, the rain receded somewhat.

"It won't…," he said suddenly, stepping forward. "It won't…help," he concluded softly. "I can't save you." He seemed genuinely sorry for the fact.

She blushed. "I didn't mean it like that."

He took another step toward her, hesitant. Cautious.

"How did you mean it?"

There was a hair's breath of distance between them where a moment ago they seemed in different sides of the room. Rictus' lips were pulled in a tight, twitching half-smile. He wanted to smile, Rachel thought, but something was stopping him.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the collar of her dress.

"Rachel dear, have you-."

They pulled back simultaneously, both meeting Mrs. Griffin's shocked stare. She was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, a hand gingerly hovering at her throat, her eyes wide. Rachel was rendered speechless.

_"Yes_, Mrs. Griffin?" Rictus demanded, his voice a cold hiss. He was obviously not pleased for the interruption, intentional as it was. He was staring bloody murder at the old woman. Mrs. Griffin, in turn, was glancing back and forth between them. In an attempt to dissolve the moment, Rachel moved past Rictus, intending to head back upstairs.

The seducer was having none of it and so put a hand on Rachel's arm to stop her. He moved forward until Rachel could feel his chest at her back. All the while he maintained eye contact with Mrs. Griffin. For her part, the grey-haired woman looked on in horror. His hands at Rachel's waist, he held her and watched.

A slight inclination of his head rested his temple against the girl's cheek.

_"S-Stop it!"_ Mrs. Griffin, now plainly horrified.

Rictus lips pulled into their trademark smirk. His eyes narrowed. "Or what?"

"You…are monstrous."

"My my…," his hold tightened. "We do like the moral high ground, don't we?" Pressing his lips gently to Rachel's cheek, he whispered in her ear, "Do you know, for someone who knew so much she sure plays at it…doesn't she?"

"You take everything," Mrs. Griffin shook her head. "Must you cause harm in every way?"

"I'm in love with this one."

Rachel stiffened, turning her face to look up at him. The words had come so naturally, so matter-of-fact. They sounded rehearsed, but for the benefit of whom she was unsure. For the truth of them, equally so. He avoided her gaze, concentrating ahead.

"You don't know what love it," Mrs. Griffin gasped, a notable expression of offence on her face. "You don't have the faintest capacity-."

Rachel could no longer bear to keep listening. Wrenching out of Rictus' arms, she fled the kitchen without a backward glance, taking the stairs up two at a time. Downstairs, she could hear a spark of commotion. There was shouting now and the presence of more voices. Jive had joined the thrall and she wonder if the gangly brother had been listening in the whole wretched scene. Likely.

There was no desire in her to know what they were yelling about and in the back of her mind, there was the knowledge she had abandoned Mrs. Griffin to some harm, but she couldn't find it in her to do anything about it. Instead she could only shut the door and sit down weakly on the bed, pulling her knees up to her chin. After some time the commotion downstairs abated and the house became deathly quiet. When finally there came a knock at the door, Rachel pressed her back against the wall, shrinking on the bed.

"Y-yes?" She damned the quiver in her voice.

She was ironically relieved to see Jive push open the door. Not so much when he closed it behind him, leaning back and regarding her with a cocked eyebrow.

"You're more trouble then your worth," he murmured.

"What do you want?"

There was no sweetness to his voice. No melody. The pretence had gone. "Only to take you to meet someone," he stepped toward her but paused when she shrank further back in response. He held up his hands. "Don't worry…brother says you've promised to be a good girl….you have, haven't you?"

"Nothing I can do, is there?"

"No."

She nodded, looking down.

"Don't feel bad," Jive offered. "It's smarter than trying to fight it. Even if you did manage to leave, the world would not be…," he trailed off, a note of doubt on his face.

"What?"

"Well…let's just say you would not be returning to the place that you left."

"You take something from us, don't you? From the kids that come here…"

"All this magic takes an awful lot of power."

"Yes," she whispered, a note of horror in her voice. She understood, suddenly. Not completely, but to some degree she knew why the transformations took place. It was their lives, after all. A visit to Holiday House cost you your life. Perhaps not in the literal sense of the word, but you certainly couldn't return to the life you'd led. Not after…_not after what they do_. She shuddered.

"And…if I try to leave-," she began.

"I'll hurt you." There was no remorse in his voice. No doubt. It was a simple fact.

"Where did you say we're going?" She asked.

"To ready for the party tonight, of course!" He smiled, apparently elated by her resignation.

"What are you talking about?"

"You haven't met her, Marr, I mean," he asked. "Have you?"

"Marr?"

With a quick twirl and jump, Jive was standing over her. Rachel looked up at him, wide eyed.

"Get away from me," she shrank back.

"Oh, really now!" Before she could react, he darted closer and wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, pulling her forcefully to her feet. Rachel began to protest, but gave up and allowed him to drag her out the door and down the hall.

"Jive…Jive, I can walk," she snapped, finally pulling away when they stopped. Above them was the entrance to the attic. Reaching up, Jive pulled on the cord to the trap door and a small set of stairs extended down toward them.

"After you!"

With Jive prodding her on, Rachel made her way through the dusty, dimly lit attic until together they climbed a second set of stairs and found themselves on the roof of the house. It was light out, but something about the roof was off. Rachel soon realized that there were shadows cast all around them, stretching out in different directions. There may have been objects towering high above them, blocking out the sun, but there was nothing to be seen. Much like everything else about the house, the shadows were a mystery.

"You finally brought her!"

The voice drifted on the wind from the opposite end of the roof. Squinting, Rachel could just make out someone obscured in the shade. A short, but wide shape.

"Marr, dearest of my dear sisters!" Jive sang and gave Rachel a little push.

"Your only sister, you fool," the voice replied, not without a hint of animosity.  
Coming closer, Rachel was able to see the figure clearly. A woman stood there, though the term may have been applied rather loosely. She was a creature of immeasurable, swimming girth. The folds of her skin were nigh indistinguishable from the folds of her clothes. When she breathed, something rippled. She regarded the girl with sparkling black eyes; empty eyes.

"My name is Marr, girl!"

"I'm…Rachel," she hesitated to shake the creature's hand.

The sister saw her reluctance and grabbed for her fingers, pulling her. "You'll have to come closer if we are to begin." She was not without pleasure at the disgusted expression on Rachel's face. She grinned, her maw spreading. "Must be difficult, eh?"

"W-What?"

Marr leaned closer, spewing a foul smell with each word. "Trying so hard to swallow your bile! Not polite, is it?" Rachel opened her mouth to apologize but Marr waved her words away. "Don't waste your time, or mine."

"What are you going to do?"

The fleshy thing chortled at the sight of Rachel's fear. "Rend your flesh…shape it, change it. Make you different and unlike and…appropriate." When Rachel's eyes widened with shock, Marr's grip on her tightened. "Easy now. Not what you think. Not yet, anyway."

"Told you that you need to be ready for tonight's little party," Jive piped up. "You can't go as yourself! What's the point of a costume ball if you don't wear a costume!"

"I will make you what you want to be. A Halloween ball calls for a change of shape and character. Something ethereal or something horrific," Marr spoke. Even as the words left her mouth, Marr's hands began to dance over Rachel's face. Her fingers twitched and touched, prodded and primped at the flesh. There was the strangest of feelings. Rachel's flesh seemed to be rippling and going numb, like a severe case of pins and needles. It was intense, but not painfully so. Her point of view was shifting and changing as well as her eyes repositioned. Her ears formed differently and her skin began to take on a distinctly paler pallor. Her cheekbones cracked as they lengthened, the sound making her cry out in surprise.

When the transformation had finished, Marr handed her a mirror. Rachel took several minutes to examine herself. It was in that moment of self-discovery that she had to admit one thing: despite her fated predicament, this place still held wonders.

Coming back from the roof, the first people she ran into were John and Elliot. Tagging alone behind them was a girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen. The trio were laughing but stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of her. They exchanged shocked stares, the girl hiding behind the boys and peering over their shoulders in wonder.

"Rachel?" Elliot cocked his head. "Is that you?"

"Oh wow!" John chirped up, "It is too! Did Marr do that to you?"

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, you guys knew about this?"

"Oh yeah!" They said in unison.

"Marr will turn you into a monster for Halloween too, if you want," John said. "I was a werewolf once, it was _so_ cool!"

"It's okay, Lulu, this is our friend, Rachel!" John stepped aside so the new girl could approach. She did, albeit cautiously.

"Hi…I'm Lulu," she said with a shy smile.

"It's okay, really," Rachel smiled, shaking the other girl's hand. "I don't look like this all the time. My name is Rachel!" Inside, a tiny voice was screaming in her head. She wanted to grab the girl by the shirt collar and shake her. She wanted to tell her to run away, but she knew that would accomplish nothing. Jive was a few short steps behind her, even at that very moment climbing down the attic stairs to join them.  
She would have to find the right moment. Her fate may well have been sealed, but perhaps something could be done for Lulu. Perhaps even for John and Elliot. They seemed unchanged, though Elliot was beginning to look a bit run down. Rachel studied him with growing dread.

The young boy had dark circles under his eyes. At a closer look, his skin had a slight sheen to it, as though he were developing a fever. She was reminded of the slimy coating of Abigail's skin and feared the worst. Whatever was happening, it had already begun in one of the two boys.

After a few more minutes of chatter about the chosen costumes for the evening, Rachel headed back toward her room. There was a full length mirror in the bathroom and she was tempted to take a real look at herself. As she walked, she examined her hands. Her skin was pale, almost white. Her fingers each tapered into soft points. She wasn't really sure what she was. No creature she had ever seen before, but then she was never one for the everyday storybook monsters. Whatever she wanted to be deep in her heart, it was something previously unseen.

When she entered her room, her eyes immediately snapped to her bed. There was a dress laid out for her with a note from Mrs. Griffin suggesting she try it on for the evening. Reading the note, Rachel was relieved to think that Mrs. Griffin had not been harmed for the events of prior.

She clutched the note to her chest and sat. The need to see herself was overwhelmed by her memories of what had transpired in the kitchen. Did she still, Rachel wondered, have to attend this evening with Rictus? She flushed. She wasn't all together sure she could maintain her composure and act like nothing was happening.

Outside, it was rapidly beginning to go dark; another trick of the house. Tonight was important somehow, though Rachel was not sure how. In any case, it would come sooner than expected.

_To Be Continued..._


End file.
